“You funny boy,” she said with her quick, frank smile, “I didn’t mean to worry you. Listen! It’s all quite simple. I care for you very much indeed. I don’t mind your––caressing––me––sometimes. But I’m not in love. I just care a lot for you.... But not nearly enough to love you.”
“Palla, you’re hopeless!”
“Why? Because I am so respectful toward love? Of course I am. A girl who believes as I do can’t afford to make a mistake.”
“Exactly,” he said eagerly, “but under the law, if a mistake is made every woman has her remedy–––”
“Her remedy! What do you mean? You can’t pass one of those roses through the flame of that fire and still have your rose, can you?”
He was silent.
“And that’s what happens under your laws, as well as outside of them. No! I don’t love you. Under your law I’d be afraid to marry you. Under mine I’m deathly afraid.... Because––I know––that where love is there can be no fear.”
“Is that your answer, Palla?”
“Yes, Jim.”