“An effort calculated for what?” And then as she hung fire, “I’m capable of nothing with regard to you,” he went on, “but just of being infernally in love with you. If one’s strong one loves only the more strongly.”
“There’s a good deal in that;” and indeed our young lady felt the force of it—felt it thrown off, into the vast of truth and poetry, as practically a bait to her imagination. But she promptly came round. “Think of me or not, as you find most possible; only leave me alone.”
“Until when?”
“Well, for a year or two.”
“Which do you mean? Between one year and two there’s all the difference in the world.”
“Call it two then,” said Isabel with a studied effect of eagerness.
“And what shall I gain by that?” her friend asked with no sign of wincing.
“You’ll have obliged me greatly.”
“And what will be my reward?”
“Do you need a reward for an act of generosity?”