"You think I'm too late?"
She looked at him steadily:
"Yes, you are too late—in every sense."
"You are mistaken," he said, cheerfully.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that all these superficial details which, under the magnifying glass of fear, you and I have regarded with terrified respect, amount to nothing. Real trouble is something else; the wings of tragedy have never yet even brushed either you or me. But unless you let me answer that letter of yours, and listen very carefully to my answer, you and I are going to learn some day what tragedy really is."
"Mr. Quarren!" she exclaimed, forcing a laugh, "are you trying to make me take you seriously?"
"I certainly am."
"That in itself is tragic enough," she laughed.
"It really is," he said: "because it has come to a time when you have got to take me seriously."