"Elsbeth, dear, it's a beautiful scheme, and a woman could carry it through, I daresay—but it's no good to me. It's too—too tortuous, too feminine. I don't mean anything rude. It's merely that I'm not—subtle enough, or patient. At least, I haven't got that cat-and-mouse kind of patience. I can wait, you know. That's different. I can wait all right. But I can't intrigue."
Elsbeth flushed.
"There is no intrigue. It's a question of understanding Alwynne and of using the opportunity when it comes."
"To trick and surprise and over-persuade her into caring for me! It's no good, Elsbeth. It isn't possession I want—it's Alwynne. Can't you see? We should neither of us be happy. She would always distrust me and remember that I'd taken an advantage. I should end by hating her, I believe. Can't you see?"
Elsbeth was shaken by her own thoughts.
"I see," she said finally. "And I see that you don't love her—or you'd take her on any terms."
"Would you?"
"Yes."
"Well, I wouldn't. And I do love her. But I want Alwynne on my terms. Do I sound an awful prig? Cousin Elsbeth, hear my way! I'm going to have it out with Alwynne."
"At once?"