"The other thing only frightens me," she said quickly. "I like you—but I cannot return that. This is not just the feeling of a moment. It will never change. I know myself. But be my friend. Take what I can give you. Do not force me to be on my guard. I wish to let myself go with you."
"That is what I wish," he said quickly. Poor Evan felt hollow inside: hollow and a little dazed. The cloud-piercing tower of his happiness had collapsed. A sure instinct told him that what she proposed was impossible, and what was more, absurd. But he clutched at straws. The idea of giving her up altogether was unthinkable. Moreover he was incapable of resisting her at that moment. It was easy enough to silence that inner voice. He said nothing, but merely raised her hand to his lips.
"Swear it," she murmured.
"You dictate the oath."
"Swear that you will be my friend, and nothing but my friend."
"I swear it."
Suddenly leaning forward she kissed his cheek as a sister might have done—but the spot glowed long afterwards. Then she jumped up.
"You must go now."
"Not quite yet," he pleaded, "Corinna."
"Oh!" she rebuked him.