“Why don’t you think so!” he demanded impatiently.
“Do you wish me to be quite frank?”
“Of course!”
“Very well.” She lifted her head and let her clear eyes rest on his. “I like you,” she said. “I even like––what we did. I like you far better than any man I ever knew. But I do not care for you enough to give up my freedom of mind and of conduct for your asking. I do not care enough for you to subscribe to your religion and your laws. And that’s the tragic truth.”
“But what on earth has all that to do with it? I haven’t asked you to believe as I believe or to subscribe to any law–––”
Her enchanting laughter filled the room: “Yes, you have! You asked me to marry you, didn’t you?”
“Of course!”
“Well, I can’t, Jim, because I don’t believe in the law of marriage, civil or religious. If I loved you I’d live with you unmarried. But I’m afraid to try it. And so are you. Which proves that I’m not really in love with you, or you with me–––”
The door bell rang.
“But I do care for you,” she whispered, bending swiftly toward him. Her lips rested lightly on his a 101 moment, then she turned and walked out into the centre of the room.