"My friend, stay as long as it may please you. I should be inconsolable if you shortened on my account a sojourn which is so agreeable."
"But you, Therese?"
"I, my friend? I can take care of myself."
The fire was languishing. The shadows were deepening between them. She said, in a dreamy tone:
"It is true, however, that it is never prudent to leave a woman alone."
He went near her, trying to see her eyes in the darkness. He took her hand.
"You love me?" he said.
"Oh, I assure you that I do not love another but—"
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I am thinking—I am thinking that we are separated all through the summer; that in winter you live with your parents and your friends half the time; and that, if we are to see so little of each other, it is better not to see each other at all."