'You are very good to me, Chris. Why?'
'Because I love you, Jessie,' I replied.
'Really and truly?' she exclaimed, half tenderly, half tantalisingly.
'With all my heart and soul,' I said, in a low passionate tone.
'When one loves like that' (she was speaking seriously now), 'what does it really mean?'
'I can only speak of myself, and I know that there is no sacrifice I would not make for you. I am sure there is nothing you could ask me to do that I would not do; if I could die to make you happy, I would do so gladly, Jessie.'
'But I don't want you to die, Chris; what should I do without you? Then when one loves really and truly, and with one's heart and soul, there is no selfishness in it? One doesn't think of oneself?'
'I think of nothing but you, Jessie. I should like to be successful, for your sake; I should like to be rich, for your sake. Now do you understand?'
She did not reply, and when presently I ventured to look into her face, I saw that there were tears in her eyes.
'You are not angry with me, Jessie?'