"No; certainly there is not."
"You don't love Striver."
"The idea! I never heard such nonsense."
"You are about to hear a good deal of nonsense. When a sensible man such as I am is in love, he talks his heart out."
She did not draw away her hands, but laughed softly in spite of her fears and insistent troubles. "What you say can never be nonsense."
"Then you love me?" I demanded persistently. "Yes; it's no use my denying it, I do love you."
"Gertrude!" I caught her fully in my arms and, before she could turn her head aside, had pressed my lips to her own. She bore the embrace for one moment, then pushed me away, and retreating to the armchair sat down to cry softly. I followed. "Gertrude darling!"
"Oh, what is the use of talking? How can we behave in this way, when all things are wrong? I do love you: it is useless to say that I do not. But my heart aches with pain."
"Darling," I knelt beside her, "I am here to help you."
"I know. I accept your help gladly, and I thank God for having sent a good man to help me."