"You know what I said about the third person in Paradise?"
"I can't admit your Paradise," he said.
"You are a heretic," she answered. "It is a matter of sex, of course."
"Naturally! Paradise is so relative. It may be the halo thrown round a court in the city or a rose garden in the country, any place where love is!"
"And may I not love my friend!" she demanded.
"You may love me," he answered, the passion suddenly vibrating in his tone. "I will be more faithful than any friend. I will build Paradise for you—wherever you will! I will build the walls so high that no harm or any fear shall pass them."
She waved him back. Something of the old look, which he hated so to see, was in her face.
"You must not talk to me like this, Mr. Wrayson," she said. "Indeed you must not."
"Why not?" he demanded. "If there is a reason I will know it."
She looked him steadily in the eyes.