"Cure me?"
"Yes. Do you deny that you love me?"
"No, by God! I don't! But you take a devilish advantage. You must know that I had meant to keep my head. Of course, you are playing with me—with your cursed technique!… Unless …" He reached her in a stride and stood over her. "Is it possible—do you—you——"
She pushed back her chair, and stood behind it. Her cheeks were very pink, her eyes startled, but very soft. "I do not admit that yet—I have been too astounded—I went away to think by myself—where I was sure not to see you—but—my mind seemed to revolve in circles. I don't know! I don't know!"
"You do know! You are not the woman to mistake a passing interest for the real thing."
"Oh, does a woman ever—I never wanted to be as young as that again! I should have believed it impossible if I had given the matter a thought—It is so long! I had forgotten what love was like. There was nothing I had buried as deep. And there are reasons—reasons!"
"I only follow you vaguely. But I think I understand—worse luck! I've hated you more than once. You must have known that. I believe you are deliberately leading me on to make a fool of myself."
"I am not! Oh, I am not!"
"Do you love me?"
"I—I want to be sure. I have dreamed … I—I have leisure, you see. This old house shuts out the world—Europe—the past. The war might have cut my life in two. If it had not been for that—that long selfless interval … I'd like you to go now."