I then proceeded to deliver a gentle attack, which she repulsed, with a serious face. I stopped directly, telling her that she would find me polite and respectful, but not in the least affectionate, for the rest of the evening.
Her face had blushed a vivid scarlet, and she replied that her sense of duty obliged her to repulse me in spite of herself.
I liked this metaphysical line of argument. I saw that I had only to destroy the idea of duty in her and all the rest would follow. What I had to do was to enter into an argument, and to bear away the prize directly I saw her at a loss for an answer.
“If your duty,” I began, “forces you to repulse me in spite of yourself, your duty is a burden on you. If it is a burden on you, it is your enemy, and if it is your enemy why do you suffer it thus lightly to gain the victory? If you were your own friend, you would at once expel this insolent enemy from your coasts.”
“That may not be.”
“Yes, it may. Only shut your eyes.”
“Like that?”
“Yes.”
I immediately laid hands on a tender place; she repulsed me, but more gently and not so seriously as before.
“You may, of course, seduce me,” she said, “but if you really love me you will spare me the shame.”