“I can’t say it.”
“Yes, you can. There should be nothing left, as you say, that you and I cannot say to each other. We have been through too much, we have seen too much, ever to let pride interfere between us again. And you can depend upon me to the end of creation. I’ll never let them distress you—never, never, never.”
“As if I hadn’t been distressed!”
“I know. And I have been one of the worst. I’m sorry, so terribly sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“You know.” She lifted her eyes, steadily at last, to meet his, and he saw their depths below depths of suffering.
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“I love you.”
“Say it again.”