"It must!"
He shook his head.
She said in desperation: "You cannot care for me too much because you know that I am—not free."
"Cannot?" He laughed mirthlessly. "I am caring for you—loving you—every second more and more."
"That is dishonourable," she faltered.
"Why?"
"You know!"
"Yes. But if it does not change me how can I help it?"
"You can help making me care for you!"
His heart was racing now; every vein ran fiery riot.