"I can't tell you. It isn't a thing that can be put into words."
"Then it doesn't exist."
"Oh, yes it does," cried Ursula. "If the engagement were to be broken—or if anything were to happen to her—why, you'd get over it—would go on as if nothing had happened. If she didn't fit in with your plans and ambitions, she'd be sacrificed so quick she'd not know what had taken off her head. But if you felt what I mean—then you'd give up everything—do the wildest, craziest things."
"What nonsense!" scoffed Norman. "I can imagine myself making a fool of myself about a woman as easily as about anything else. But I can't imagine myself playing the fool for anything whatsoever."
There was mysterious fire in Ursula's absent eyes. "You remember me as a girl—how mercenary I was—how near I came to marrying Cousin Jake?"
"I saved you from that."
"Yes—and for what? I fell in love."
"And out again."
"I was deceived in Clayton—deceived myself—naturally. How is a woman to know, without experience?"
"Oh, I'm not criticising," said the brother.