He swung the nose of the punt round, so that it crunched into a tall, green wilderness that sprang up and closed behind their passage. He laid aside the pole and looked down the length of their refuge, regarding her intently.
“Stop caring for you!” He laughed shortly. “As though I could—the matter’s out of my hands. I never had a chance not to care for you. If I didn’t believe that a day was coming when—when you’d be kinder to me, Cherry, I’d not want to go any further—I mean with living. I’m not good at saying things in words; you’re everything to me.”
She avoided his glance, turning her head away so that he watched her side-face. She spoke in a low voice, with concentrated vehemence. “It’s terrible to feel like that. People are sure to disappoint you. You’ve no right to allow yourself to depend on someone else for all your happiness.”
“But if I don’t mind? If I’m willing to take my chance?”
She lifted up her face appealingly. “Then it isn’t fair to me, Peter. You force me to become responsible. It isn’t that I don’t like you. I admire you; that isn’t love. You don’t know your own mind yet; there are heaps and heaps of better girls.—And then, there’s Lorie. I tell you, Peter, I’m not your sort—please, please stop caring for me.”
The gladness died in him. It was as though the lamps behind his eyes had guttered out. His voice trembled. His face had grown lean and sad. “Don’t say that, Cherry—it keeps us separate. You don’t love me now, perhaps; but one day you’ll need me. I’m waiting till you need me, and then——. You are my sort, Cherry; but I’ll never be good enough for you. All the time I’m trying, ever since I’ve known you I’ve been trying to become better. It’s like yesterday: whenever I’m losing the race and getting slack I hear you calling. Then I say to myself, ‘I have to be fine for her.’ I think you must be my sort, Cherry, if you can do that. Love was meant not to make people perfect, but to make them believe always in the best. If you do that for me, Cherry——.”
She put her hands before her eyes and slipped back against the cushions, as though she had become very tired. He stole down the punt noiselessly and knelt beside her.
“Don’t you like to be loved, Cherry?”
She spoke, still with her eyes covered. “Of course I like to be loved. Every girl likes to know that some man cares for her.”
“Then, why——?”