‘I do,’ said she thoughtfully.
‘Do I interest you?’ asked he, more tenderly.
‘Intensely,’ was the reply.
‘Oh, if I could but think that. If I could bring myself to believe that the day would come, not only to secure your interest, but your aid and your assistance in this great task! I have long sought the opportunity to tell you that we, who hold the destinies of a people in our keeping, are not inferior to our great trust, that we are not mere creatures of a state department, small deities of the Olympus of office, but actual statesmen and rulers. Fortune has given me the wished-for moment, let it complete my happiness, let it tell me that you see in this noble work one worthy of your genius and your generosity, and that you would accept me as a fellow-labourer in the cause.’
The fervour which he threw into the utterance of these words contrasted strongly and strangely with the words themselves; so unlike the declaration of a lover’s passion.
‘I do—not—know,’ said she falteringly.
‘What is that you do not know?’ asked he, with tender eagerness.
‘I do not know if I understand you aright, and I do not know what answer I should give you.’
‘Will not your heart tell you?’
She shook her head.