"Flora! Oh, Flora wouldn't even think about a play-actor. What would your uncle——"
"He's dead now." He stopped me.
"They are all dead," I told him, "all those that mattered to us."
We had another mood when we came to my rooms. I perceived suddenly what there was in him more than I had known. It was in his manner that he had commanded men. I was pierced through with a sense of his virility, the quality that goes to make a male. I was glad of an excuse to put away my hat and wrap, to escape for a moment from the effect he produced on me ... from inordinate pride in him that he could so produce it. The room was full of the tumult we created for one another.
"Will you sit here?" I said at last. I believe I pushed a chair toward him.
"No, you." He must have turned it back toward me, otherwise I do not know how I came to be so near him.
"You know," I said, ... "I never got your letter."
"I guessed as much when it came back to me. I should have come to you the next day, but I quarrelled with my uncle. I walked all the way to the railway station before I remembered. But what had I to offer you?"
"It was so long ago ..."
"No, no, yesterday." His arms were around me. "Olivia ... yesterday and to-day!"