“Beyond all words, and all measures, beyond the capacity of mortal man. That is why I feel a giant at this moment—a god! There’s no room for my love in a man’s poor frame.”
Jean dimpled deliriously. This was just as it should be, and such good hearing that it could bear endless repetition.
“And am I the first? Have you never loved any one before?”
“Not for a moment. The thought of marriage never entered my head. I thought I was far better off as I was. Oh, Jean, imagine it!”
Jean smiled at him with shy, lovely eyes.
“And never flirted, nor run after a pretty girl?”
“Goodness, yes!” The emphasis of Robert’s affirmative was a trifle disconcerting to Jean’s complacence. “What do you take me for, Jean? I adore pretty girls. I should be a fool if I didn’t. At balls and picnics it’s part of the programme to get up a passing flirtation. I wish I had a sovereign for every one I’ve enjoyed in the last ten years. Half a dozen dances and supper, and forget all about her next day—you know the sort of thing! It doesn’t enter into our calculations.”
Jean stared, considered, and finally laughed.
“No, it doesn’t! Thank goodness I am not jealous. I have dozens of faults, as you will find out to your cost, poor boy; but that’s not one. I don’t mind how many pretty girls you admire. We’ll admire them together. You are mine; we belong to each other. As you say, that sort of thing doesn’t enter.” She sat silent, musing with parted lips. A bird hopped lightly across the grass, peered at them for a moment with bright, curious eyes, and soared up to the blue. The air was sweet with the fresh, pungent scent of the earth.
“What is it?” questioned Jean, as every lover has questioned since the days of Eve. “What is it that makes the difference, the yawning, illimitable difference between just one person and all the rest of the world? Why do we love each other like this? You have seen hundreds of girls, but you have never wished to marry one. Men have loved me, and I hated them the moment they began to make love. But you—if you hadn’t!—Robert, what should I have done? I should have lived on—I am so strong, but my heart would have died; there would have been nothing left. And a fortnight ago we had not met! People will say that it is madness, that we cannot know our own minds; but the marvel of it is—we knew at once! I was frightened, and ran away, but I knew; deep down in my heart I knew that you would follow. Tell me when you began to know—the very first moment!”