"I did not say you were good. I said there was some good in you. You always take everything for granted."
"I will take all you grant," said he.
"I grant nothing. It is you who fancy that I do. You have altogether too much imagination."
"I never need it with you, even if I have it," answered Alexander. "You are infinitely beyond anything I ever imagined in my wildest dreams."
"So are you," laughed Hermione. "Only—it is in a different way."
"Why do you think I like you so much?" asked her cousin, suddenly changing his tone.
"Because you ought not to," she answered without hesitation.
"Then you think that as soon as any one tells me that I should not like a thing, I make up my mind to like it and to have it? No, that is not the reason I love you."
"It was 'liking,' not 'loving,' a moment ago," observed Hermione. "Please always say 'liking.' It is a much better word."
"Perhaps. It leaves more to the imagination, of which you say I have so much. The reason I like you so much, Hermione, is because you are so honest. You always say just what you mean."