"Why did you know I would choose it as the part of the room I liked best?" he asked.
"Because I've found we both love the simple things, the 'home-sweet' things, the enduring things of life," she answered.
"Is that why you have been so kind to me?"
"Please don't think of it as kindness," she said. She was back in the chair she had left to stand beside the window. "That is why I have arranged to see you as often as I have, if that is what you mean."
An impulse overwhelmed his self-imposed restraint.
"If anything ever happens to cause you to have doubt in me," he said, earnestly, "will you try to believe that I did what I thought was right?"
The nature of his question, its suddenness, astonished her. She moved her lips to speak.
"Don't ask me why I asked you that," he said, "but promise me, promise me, that you'll do your best to think of me as doing what I believed was right."
"I'm bewildered, but you have my promise," she answered.