"Too late. Besides, I have no desire to conquer it. On the contrary, I encourage it, in hope of some return. No, do not dishearten me. I know what you are going to say; but at least you like me, Cecil?"
"Well, yes; but what of that? I like so many people."
"Then go a little further, and say you—love me."
"That would be going a great deal further, because I love so few."
"Never mind. Say 'Penthony, I love you.'"
He has placed his hands upon her shoulders, and is regarding her with anxious fondness.
"Would you have me tell you an untruth?"
"I would have you say you love me."
"But supposing I cannot in honesty?"
"Try."