"Hurts! As if anything hurts you! Nothing could hurt you, nothing; you're not built that way. Do you suppose that I don't know what kind of man you are--that you're an all-round bad lot?"
"To say a thing like that, after pretending to care for me!"
"Pretending! There wasn't much pretence about my caring; I proved it. You wouldn't let me rest until I did. Not only did I care for you, but I do care for you; and I shall continue to care for you as long as I live. No other man can ever be to me what you have been."
"That's more like the Mabel I know."
"But don't imagine that I'm under any delusion about you; you'll know better by the time I've done. You're the kind of man who's not to be trusted with a girl. You make love to every woman you meet--what you call love! You're entangled with no end of women. I know! I don't know how many think you're going to marry them, but I shouldn't be surprised if Miss Patterson and Miss Austin both think you are. If I were to go and tell them, do you think they'd marry you? Not they; they're not that sort."
"But you won't tell them. You're not that sort either. I, perhaps, know you better than you know yourself."
"It's this way. Even you mayn't know who you're going to marry, but I do. You're going to marry me."
"I wish I were. I'll admit so much. But--we can't always do what we wish, my dear."
"You can, and do; that's what makes you dangerous--at first to others, in the end to yourself. Rodney, I don't want to say something which will change the whole face of the world for both of us, but I'll have to if you make me. Don't you make me! Say you'll marry me."
"My dear child----"