"I've asked myself for a tribute, for a sacrifice by which I can peculiarly recognise—"
"Peculiarly recognise what?" she demanded as he dropped.
"The admirable nature of your own sacrifice. You were capable in Venice of an act of splendid generosity."
"And the privilege you offer me with that document is my reward?"
He made a movement. "It's all I can do as a symbol of my attitude."
She looked at him long. "Your attitude, my dear, is that you're afraid of yourself. You've had to take yourself in hand. You've had to do yourself violence."
"So it is then you meet me?"
She bent her eyes hard a moment to the letter, from which her hand still stayed itself. "You absolutely desire me to take it?"
"I absolutely desire you to take it."
"To do what I like with it?"