"But bliss is so fleeting," she said. "You must have the joy that lasts." She drew her hand away. "Remember, I shall let you make love to me only on that condition."
He didn't in the least understand, and he told her so.
"Why are you so insistent?" he asked.
"Because I'll only do this wicked thing that good may come of it."
"Wicked thing," he repeated.
"It's wicked to her. She loves you—I'm sure she does. And it isn't right that you should console yourself for a silly little tiff by philandering with me or any other convenient woman."
"It isn't philandering," he cried indignantly. "I love you as I never loved before in my life. I'd marry you to-day if you'd say so."
"But I'm not going to say so to-day or to-morrow or any other day. I don't love you in the least. But it amuses me to play at love, and it salves my conscience when I think it's for a good cause. There! That's the whole story," and she threw him a look that conveyed finality.
He debated mentally for the best part of half a minute before speaking. Certainly Mrs. Darling was not flattering. He realized that hers was the stronger character.
"Have you always been so particular?" he asked, unable quite to dissemble his vexation.