“I was not accusing you of sanity,” he told her frankly. “I was merely inquiring whether or not you have learned to love somebody else, in my absence.”
“And if I had, what then?”
“I should wish to pause for reflection, before determining whether I should be more sorry for the other fellow or for myself.”
“Fiend!” she said, mildly, “you shall never know.”
“Know what?—know where to place my sympathy?”
“You shall never know whether I have learned to love another, or not.”
“Well, neither will you—that one’s consolation.”
“But at least I shall know how I feel toward you, Adam Rust.”
“So shall I,” said the cheerful Adam. “I have always known. If you should say you were dying, I should know you were dying to run away with me, forthwith. It’s not your fault, you can’t help it.”
“I never dreamed of such a thing in my life!” she said.