"Poor darling, she only does it to keep him quiet."
"Oh, yes, I admit there's every excuse for her."
They looked at each other and smiled. A smile of delicious and secret understanding.
"Isn't he wonderful?" she said.
"I thought you'd like him…. I say, you know, I must come to his meeting. He'll be more wonderful than ever there. Can't you see him?"
"I can. It's almost too much—to think that I should be allowed to know him, to live in the same house with him, to have him turning himself on by the hour together. What have I done to deserve it?"
"I see," he said, "you have got it."
"Got what?"
"The taste for him. The genuine passion. I had it when I was here. I couldn't have stood it if I hadn't."
"I know. You must have had it. You've got it now."