"Yet I belong to you, don't I? Or is that just a—a silly form of words that hasn't any real meaning?"
"It's a phrase. You belong to yourself. You always will. There's that quality of the eternally unattainable, the eternally virginal, about you."
"Is there? I love to have you say that! Do you truly think it, Cary?"
"In the depths of my heart—where you live."
"But it wouldn't be so if we were married."
"It would always be so, my darling."
Ever keenly interested in her own character and its reflex upon others, she took this under thoughtful consideration.
"I've never felt that I could really belong to anybody. Not even to you. If I could think it, then perhaps I'd want to marry you. Does that mean that I don't love you, Cary? Or what?"
"Not as I love you," he replied with gloomy patience. "It means that I've got to wait."
"Here?" she flashed at him with her bewildering smile. "But you've been threatening to go away again."