Perhaps that evidence of her forethought, the mute resignation of her restrained conversation with its attempted note of cheerfulness forced its way through the chinks of his unnatural armour.

His whole face suddenly softened.

He leaned across and took her fingers into his.
"Dear Nora," he sighed, "what a brute I must seem to you and how difficult it is for me to try and tell you all that is in my heart!" "All tasks that are worth attempting are difficult," she murmured.
"Please go on." "They are such simple things that I feel," he began, "simple and yet contradictory.

I should miss you more out of my life than any other person.

I shall resent from my very soul the man who takes you from me.
And yet I know what life is, dear.