Bobby weighed his words. “I’d care if it were any girl but you. You—you’re different. I love you. What has or hasn’t happened to you doesn’t matter. At least—it doesn’t matter so much.”
“You’re sure it doesn’t matter so much?”
“Quite.”
“Sure for good?”
“Yes.”
“From this moment you forget, you begin to forget what I have told you? As I want to forget it?”
“It will go soon enough if you want to forget it. It doesn’t matter at all. I see now, it doesn’t matter at all.”
“But why on earth do you want to marry me, Bobby? What is there in me? I’m ugly, rude, greedy, inconsiderate. I’ve no purity, no devotion.”
“You’re incessantly interesting. You’re straight, swift, and endlessly beautiful.”
“Bobby, truly! Does it look like that to you?”