“Oh, no, she is dead—But I am not thinking of anyone but you—”
“What did the other girl look like? Was she light or dark?”
“Oh, why speak of her—she is dead, I tell you—” he spoke impatiently.
“You must still be thinking of her or you wouldn’t remember her now. I am sure you are in love with her still—was she pretty?”
He was beside himself.
“I tell you she is dead—” There was exasperation in his tone.
“And you mean to tell me you never had a love affair since then?”
She was drawing an 8 on the ground with the tip of her slipper.
“Of course I have never loved anyone as I love you.”
“Then you did love her!”