He stiffened himself further against her.
“How much do you think I do?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“But what is your opinion?” he asked.
There was a pause. At length, in the darkness, came her voice, hard and indifferent:
“Very little indeed,” she said coldly, almost flippant.
His heart went icy at the sound of her voice.
“Why don’t I love you?” he asked, as if admitting the truth of her accusation, yet hating her for it.
“I don’t know why you don’t—I’ve been good to you. You were in a fearful state when you came to me.”
Her heart was beating to suffocate her, yet she was strong and unrelenting.