"I don't know what you mean."
"You don't know what I mean?"
"I know you are going to say you love me, and you had better not. For I don't know what that means. The thing you call love was left out of my composition. Some women are born like that."
"I don't believe it. It's only your way of saying that you don't care for me."
"I like you. I always have liked you. I'll go farther—if I ever loved any man it would be you."
"The fact remains that it isn't?"
"It isn't, and it never will be. But you may be very certain that it will never be anyone else."
"Tell me one thing—was there ever a time when it might have been?"
"That isn't fair. I can't answer that question."
"You can. Think—was there ever a time, no matter how short, the fraction of a minute, when if I'd only had the sense, if I had only known——"