“My opinion is that thou hast wavered too long. It is a great foolishness to let the cherry knock against the lips too often or too long. A pretty pastime, perhaps, to will, and not will, to dare, and not dare; but at last the knock comes that drops the cherry—it may be into some other mouth.”
“I fear no one but that rascal, Joris Hyde.”
“A rascal he is not, because the same woman he loves as thyself. Such words weaken any cause. No wrong have I seen or known of Lieutenant Hyde.”
“I will call him a rascal, and I will give him no other title, though his father leave him an earl.”
“Now, then, I shall go. I like not ill words. Write thy letter, but put out of thy mind all bad thoughts first. A love letter from a bitter heart is not lucky. And of all thy wit thou wilt have great need if to a woman thou write.”
“Oh, they are intolerable, aching joys! A man who dares to love a woman, or dares to believe in her, dares to be mad.”
“Come, come! No evil must thou speak of good women, I swear that I was never out of it yet, when I judged men as they judged women. The art of loving a woman is the art of trusting her—yes, though the heavens fall. Now, then, haste with thy letter. Thou may have ‘Yes’ to it ere thou sleep to-night.”
“And I may have ‘No.’”
“To be sure, if thou think ‘no.’ But, even so, if thou lose the wedding ring, the hand is still left; another ring may be found.”
“‘No,’ would be a deathblow to me.”