"I have no reason to believe that she loves me," said Peter.
"Perhaps I shouldn't tell you, but I have reason to believe that—she loves you."
He leaned forward and searchingly studied her face: "I'm sure you are mistaken. But—granting that Charlotte may love me—is it for her sake that you want me to marry her?"
"For hers—and for yours. I want to see you in a home of your own, Peter—with a wife to love you, with children. I want—I want you to be happy!"
"I would not be happy if I married Charlotte."
"Why, Peter?"
"Because I do not love her."
"You would come to love her."
"No, Sheila—I am not free to do that."
"Do you—do you love some one else?" And her voice shook now in spite of her attempt to keep it firm.