There was triumph in them, because he could not conceive that Maisie should refuse sooner or later to love him, since he loved her.
'It's wrong of me,' said Maisie, more slowly than before; 'it's wrong and selfish; but, oh, I've been so lonely! No, you misunderstand.

Now I've seen you again,--it's absurd, but I want to keep you in my life.' 'Naturally.

We belong.' 'We don't; but you always understood me, and there is so much in my work that you could help me in.

You know things and the ways of doing things.
You must.' 'I do, I fancy, or else I don't know myself.

Then you won't care to lose sight of me altogether, and--you want me to help you in your work ?' 'Yes; but remember, Dick, nothing will ever come of it.