I looked up at her, a little perplexed.
“Dear heart,” said I, “isn't this enough? You're my councillor, my colleague, my right hand, the secret soul of my life—”
“And I want to darn your socks,” she said, smiling back at me.
“You're insatiable.”
She smiled “No,” she said. “I'm not insatiable, Master. But I'm a woman in love. And I'm finding out what I want, and what is necessary to me—and what I can't have. That's all.”
“We get a lot.”
“We want a lot. You and I are greedy people for the things we like, Master. It's very evident we've got nearly all we can ever have of one another—and I'm not satisfied.”
“What more is there?
“For you—very little. I wonder. For me—every thing. Yes—everything. You didn't mean it, Master; you didn't know any more than I did when I began, but love between a man and a woman is sometimes very one-sided. Fearfully one-sided! That's all....”
“Don't YOU ever want children?” she said abruptly.