"It was you who were very sweet to me.... But I told you how matters stand. You care for your husband."
"Yes, you did tell me. But it is not true. I thought about it all night long; I find that I do not care for him—as you told me I did."
He said, smiling: "Nor do you really care for me."
"I could care."
Her hands still lay lightly on his shoulders; he smilingly disengaged them, saluted the finger tips, and swung them free.
"No, you couldn't," he said—"nor could I."
She clasped her hands behind her, confronting him with that gaily audacious allure which he knew so well:
"Does a man really care whether or not he is in love with a woman before he makes love to her?"
"Do you want an honest answer?"
"Please."