"What do you want me to say?" he asked at last.
"I want you to realise there are other things. You must not give way to this fixed idea."
Where before had Peter heard this? It seemed an echo. But he shut his ears.
"I have only one fixed idea. It is to marry you. You are pleading against yourself, Vivette."
"Put me out of account," she said sharply. "I have already refused."
They were again at the point where last night they had failed to agree.
Peter rose and walked to the end of the room and back to Vivette. He was beginning to measure her strength and subtlety, and they made it more difficult to lose her. His blood rose against the idea. He caught her roughly by the arm.
"Suppose I cannot put all this away? Suppose it has to be really an episode?"
Her arm tightened under his grip. She became cold and hostile.