Lady Jim laughed. This war of words was amusing and pretty, but she wished to arrive at some conclusion which would repay her for spending an hour in a cold gallery, packed with shockingly bad pictures.
"I am waiting for your definition of love," she said at length.
"I cannot explain the impossible."
"It seems to me that you have been trying to do so. Would you like to hear how I define love?"
His eyes burned like two menacing stars. "Yes," he muttered in a husky voice, and holding his passions in leash.
"Love is sacrifice," said Leah, slowly.
"Then I--love you," he burst out. "There is no sacrifice I would not make for your dear sake."
"Can I believe that?"
"Try me," and he again dropped on his knees.
"Get up," said Lady Jim, brusquely. He did so. "Take a seat!" He did so. "Look at the floor, and not at me." He did so. "Now then," she continued, feeling relieved that those fierce eyes were not making her flesh creep, "do you know what you are, Monsieur Demetrius?"