“You? You’re not a bit in love with me.”
“I’m not so sure. I came over determined not to be, for although I like strong women, I don’t like ’em too strong. But your personal quality is stronger still—magnetism?—call it what you like —”
“Oh, if that is all, you’ll soon get over it. Remember you are going back to America in a month —”
“Perhaps. That, however, has nothing to do with it. You knocked me out at fifteen, and you’re about to do it again. What have I waited for all these years? I’ve felt superstitious about it before —”
“I don’t love you the least bit, and never could.” And Julia made her eyes look pure steel.
“Oh, couldn’t you? Julia—” He leaned farther across the table and looked into the steel with no appreciable tremor. “Julia, play the part you look for just three minutes and a quarter.”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” asked Julia, furiously.
“Don’t I? I want nothing so much on earth, not even to get the best of those four-flushers in the City.”
“Do you suppose I’d kiss a man unless I intended to marry him?”
“I hope not. I’m quite ready to do the right thing by you.”