“That I should have outstayed my welcome.”
“Sweet, not your welcome, but my terror.”
“Then, if I’ve outstayed it, your terror’s gone?”
“Alas, no! This night has made it tenfold. It increases with every minute that you linger.”
“Why, Isabel, what’s to fear? All the world’s asleep.”
“Is there nothing to fear indeed?”
“Nothing, on my soul.”
“Will you not go, dear love?”
“Not while you ask me. See how your voice holds me in its silken leash.”
“I will not speak, then.”