"I remember everything," she went on, "from the time you met me at the station. I can see you now as you came toward me, and that memory is all by itself, for nobody at the very first meeting looks the same as afterward. There is always some subtle change—I don't know why. Do I look the same to you now as I did then?"
"You've always been the most beautiful thing in the world to me, since the first moment I saw you."
"No, not the first moment."
"When was it, then, darling?"
"The first night, when I came down to dinner, in that pale green satin gown. Don't you remember?"
"As if I could ever forget!"
"And you thought I looked like a tiger-lily."
"Did I?"
"Yes, but you didn't say it and I was glad, for so many other men had said it before."
"Perhaps it was because, past all your splendour, I saw you—the one perfect and peerless woman God made for me and sent to me too late."