"Beware you! George, do not provoke me—pray do not. Sit down and talk reasonably. What is it you want to ask me?"
"I repeat: the motive for your civility to me?"
"And I repeat: my love."
"Your love!"
"There again! Why will you torment me with this absurd doubt? Why should you doubt me? Have I any interest in deceiving you? You are not my husband.—It is very strange that when I do not scruple to avow my love, you should scruple to believe me."
"My scruples arise from my knowledge of you: you are a coquette."
"I know it; but not to you."
"Solemnly—do you love me?"
"Solemnly—I do!"
He paused again, as unprepared for this dissimulation. She withstood his gaze without flinching.