"I'm married."
"It's a flimsy, miserable business!" he began angrily, but she flushed and checked him with a hand against his lips.
"Besides—I do care for Oswald—very deeply," she said. "Don't say painful things to me.... Don't be sulky, Jim, dear. This is disconcerting me dreadfully. We mustn't make anything tragic out of it—anything unhappy. I'm so contented to have you back that I can't think of anything else.... Don't let's bother about love or anything else! What you and I feel for each other is more wonderful than love. Isn't it? Oh, Jim, I do adore you. We'll be with each other now a lot, won't we? You'll take a studio in this district, and I'll fly in at all hours to see you, and you'll come in to see me and we'll do things together—everything—theatres, dances, pictures, everything! And you will like Oswald, won't you? He's really so nice, poor boy!"
"All right," he muttered.
They rose; he took both her hands into his and looked intently into her grey eyes:
"I won't spoil life for you," he said. "I'll be near you, now. The old intimacy must be strengthened. I've failed wretchedly in my responsibilities; I'll try to make up for my selfishness——"
"Oh, Jim! I don't think that way——"
"You are too generous. You are too loyal. You are quite the most charming woman I ever knew, Steve—the sweetest, the most adorable. I've been a fool—blind and stupid."
"You mustn't say such ridiculous things! But it is dear of you to find me attractive! It really thrills me, Jim. I'm about the happiest girl in New York, I think! Tell me, do you like Helen?"
"Yes, she's nice. Where are you dining, Steve? Could you——"