"You don't like him."
"Do you?"
"I—love him."
"Nonsense. You don't know what you're talking about. You'd have forgotten all about him if you hadn't seen that letter."
"I thought he'd forgotten me. You ought to have told me. It was cruel not to tell me. He must have loved me all the time. He said I was to wait three years and I didn't know what he meant. He must have loved me then and I didn't know it."
The sound of her voice surprised her. It came from her whole body; it vibrated like a violin.
"How could he love you? You were a child then."
"I'm not a child now. You'll have to let him marry me."
"I'd rather see you in your coffin. I'd rather see you married to poor
Norman Waugh. And goodness knows I wouldn't like that."
"Your mother didn't like your marrying Papa."