"No; that I'm asking you for mine."
"On what grounds?"
She arched her eyebrows, looking round about her comprehensively. "I should think that was clear. On the grounds of—of everything."
"That's not enough. So long as you can't say that you don't—don't care about me any more—"
There was that possibility. It was very faint, but if she made use of it he should consider it decisive. Doing precisely the right thing would become quite another course of action if her heart rejected him. But she spoke promptly.
"I can't say that; but I can say something more important."
He nodded firmly. "That settles it, by Jove. I sha'n't give you up. There's no reason for it. So long as we love each other—"
"Our loving each other wouldn't make your refusal any the less hard for me. As your wife I should be trying to fill a position for which I'm no longer qualified and in which I should be a failure."
"As my wife," he said, slowly, with significant deliberation, "we could make the position anything you felt able to fill."
She considered this. "That is, you could send in your papers and retire into private life."