She stared at him in amazement.
"Nay, sir, none that I know on," she faltered.
"Then what——"
"I did but wonder how long a man's 'worship undying' lives," she answered mischievously.
He eyed her keenly for a moment, then he laughed.
"Sure a man can scarce be writ down inconstant because he remain not true to his childhood's love."
"Yet some men have proved themselves so constant," she murmured softly.
"That should be easy, madame, to one who hath known you all his life," he answered quickly, disarming her by his gallantry. Then he continued: "'Twould indeed go hard with me, must I forfeit all other loves for that one, seeing the lady hath been wed for more than ten years."
"She is wed! Ah!" Then she looked at him curiously. "You loved her once?" she asked gently.
"Love!" he cried quickly. "What should a boy of eighteen know of love? Oh! he may dream he loves, but he knows nought of life; to him all women are angels. But when a man loves, a man who knows his world, who hath seen both what is good and evil in woman, who hath outgrown his illusions; when he loves—— Ah! madame, what must a man feel, who, having learned to detect the flaw in every gem, yet finds one perfect pearl; who, having come to fear that purity in woman is but a dream of youth, yet meets one to restore to him his hope. Ah! truly, a boy may love a perfect woman, but a man must worship her with all his soul."