"But you said," he protested, bitterly, "no longer ago than yesterday that you—loved me."
"And I suppose I do. I did in Southsea. I did—right up to the minute when I learned what papa—and I—had been doing all these years—and that if the law had been put in force—You see, that's made me feel as if I were benumbed—as if I were frozen—or dead. You mustn't blame me too much—"
"My darling, I'm not blaming you. I'm not such a duffer but that I can understand how you feel. It'll be all right. You'll come round. This is like an illness, by Jove!—that's what it's like. But you'll get better, dear. After we're married—if you'll only marry me—"
"I said I'd do that, Rupert—I said it yesterday—if you'd give up—what I understand you have given up—"
He was on his guard against admitting this. "I haven't given it up. They've made it impossible for me to do it; that's all. It's their action, not mine."
"It comes to the same thing. I'm ready to keep my promise."
"You don't say it with much enthusiasm."
"Perhaps I say it with something better. I think I do. At the same time I wish—"
"You wish what?"
"I wish I had attached another condition to it."