"That is all it can mean to me," he answered; "but isn't it enough? An object to worship with all a man's strength, receiving the return of inspiration?"
She looked at him as he lay there reclining against the rock, his upturned face not seeking hers. This evening had shown her in miniature the truth of all she had felt and, because her heart was beating fast, she clung more strongly than ever to the spectacled gentleman with the scanty hair.
"Say something, divine one," he said suddenly, turning to her.
"Don't confuse me with the moon, Mr. Barrison," she warned him.
"But at least can't you congratulate me?"
"Yes, I can, on many things; but—don't fall in love with any ideal less impersonal than a planet."
"I don't intend to, but why these words of wisdom?"
"Because any—any mere mortal girl married to you would be miserable."
"Oh, come, now!" Philip sat up, and frowned at her with a quizzical smile. "So you think I ought to try kindness first, do you? Why?"
Diana turned her fair moonlit face directly to him. "Because you cannot ever belong to yourself, even. Much less to her."