His hands dropped from her shoulders. She saw with a sort of shock how sure he had been of her! He could hardly take in what she meant.
“Do you remember what you said?” His voice, coming after a minute, sounded at a distance to her.
She couldn’t speak. She nodded.
“Then why—now—this?”
“Because—” her voice broke. She waited a minute, fighting for self-control; then went on more quietly—“because you don’t love me, Tony.”
She startled him. “Florence,” he said earnestly, “you wrong us both. You know you’ve always been the only one!”
“I only know,” she said, “that you do not love me now—because you once did. Think! Am I what I was to you six months ago? Then think of marriage! A lifetime! You will be still a young man when I am an old woman. It was inevitable this should end.”
“But why do you talk like this?” He had her by the shoulders again. “What has age to do with it? You knew that three nights ago as well as now. It’s an excuse! Don’t you love me?”
Her voice was almost listless. “I love you so much that I’m not afraid even of ending it.”
“Florence, if you knew how I need you!” How he touched her vulnerable point! “If you knew how I have lost the only faith I had in myself!”