The world! He frowned angrily as she said it. But through all his anger he admired the reckless nobility of soul that had urged her to that last admission, by way of softening the pangs and penalties she dealt to him. Would any other woman have confessed as much to the man who had once despised her, and now found himself in her power?
She went on. "I thought you might like to know it. I've gone far enough, perhaps; but I'll go farther still. I believe I would give the world to be able to love you now."
"Frida, if you can go as far as that——"
"I can go no farther. No, Maurice, not one step."
"You can. I believe, even now, I could make you love me."
"No. You see, women in my position, my unfortunate position, want to be loved for themselves."
"I do love you for yourself. Do you doubt that, too?"
"I do not doubt it. I am quite sure of it. That's where it is. I know you love me for myself, and so many men have loved me—not for myself. Do you suppose that doesn't touch me? If anything could make me love you that would. And since it doesn't——"
The inference was obvious.
"Is it because you can't give up your life?"