“Quite simple, really. I want to make you happy.”
“Dashed decent of you.”
“I am going to devote the rest of my life to making you happy.”
“A very matey scheme.”
“I can at least do that. But—may I be quite frank with you, Bertie?”
“Oh, rather.”
“Then I must tell you this. I am fond of you. I will marry you. I will do my best to make you a good wife. But my affection for you can never be the flamelike passion I felt for Augustus.”
“Just the very point I was working round to. There, as you say, is the snag. Why not chuck the whole idea of hitching up with me? Wash it out altogether. I mean, if you love old Gussie——”
“No longer.”
“Oh, come.”