“Think? I’m as certain as that I’m here.”
His sense of mastery made him almost indifferent to pleading. Each sentence breathed triumph. Miss Arbuthnot caught her breath, and turned her face towards him.
He went on—
“People may—will—talk. Let them. Their hateful chatter will not affect us. Helen—dearest—”
She broke in, and put up her hand.
“No, no, stop, please! We have not got so far as ‘dearest.’ Suppose we see where we are. Up to this point you have only assured me of my own feelings. What of your own?”
“You know them, you must know them.”
“Excuse me, no. When last we discussed them I gathered that they were somewhat topsy-turvy, and you agreed with me that there had been a mistake. Now it seems there has been another, and you must own that it becomes perplexing.”
He made an impatient gesture.
“Don’t play with me, Helen, for I can’t bear it. You’re the only woman I ever cared for. There! Isn’t that enough?”