"What you require of me I can be if you love me."
"Then never doubt it. And when I know that you have become what I require you to be, you could not doubt my loving you even if you wished to. Then you will know; until then—you must believe."
He sat thinking before the hearth, the slow flush rising to his temples and remaining.
"What is it you mean to do, Jacqueline?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Nothing, except what I have always done. The business of life remains unchanged; it is always there to be done."
"I mean—are you going to—change—toward me?"
"I have not changed."
"Your confidence in me has gone."
"I have recovered it."
"You believe in me still?"