"Now I have made you the more sad. You must tell me what it is."
"I can't, Maria. I don't know whether I know. But anyhow I can't."
"Perhaps it is the sound of it which you fear. You tell me. You must. Whisper it."
Peter did whisper. "You remember that night you told me—— you told me about the others."
"You mean those oh so few lovers. But that did not make you sad then. You were not angry."
"I'm not angry now. But I can't help it, Maria, that I worry."
"I think that maybe those other lovers they made you happier than I can."
"So! That I should have known. You think you are not the so great lover. These men they are gone but they are still your rivals. Perhaps I remember. That is it?"
"Yes," said Peter.