"Are you very sure?"
"Do you think a man can use a woman the way I have used her, and make her care a straw about what I say to her now?"
Cleland said in a low voice:
"I can't answer you. I don't understand women; I write about them.... I have troubles of my own, too. So I can't advise you, Harry.... Are you still in love with her?"
He said in a dead voice:
"I've always been. It's done things to me. I'll die of it, one day. But that's no argument."
"I don't know. Tell her."
"It's no argument," repeated Belter. "It's purely selfish. That's what I am—purely selfish. I'm thinking of myself. I'm in love with her.... And she's better off without me."
"All the same, I think I'd take a chance. I think I'd tell her. After all, you owe her that much—whatever she may choose to do about it."
"She doesn't care, now."