"Oh, Flower Face," said Eugene pathetically, "I can't believe it. I can't. I can't! This has been managed wrong. I should have taken you long ago. So it is to end this way. A year, a whole year, and how much longer?"
"Only a year," she insisted. "Only a year, believe me, can't you? I won't change, I won't!"
He shook his head, and Suzanne as before took his face in her hands. She kissed his cheeks, his lips, his hair.
"Believe me, Eugene. I seem cold. You don't know what I have gone through. It is nothing but trouble everywhere. Let us wait a year. I promise you I will come to you. I swear. One year. Can't we wait one year?"
"A year," he said. "A year. I can't believe it. Where will we all be in a year? Oh, Flower Face, Myrtle Bloom, Divine Fire. I can't stand this. I can't. It's too much. I'm the one who is paying now. Yes, I pay."
He took her face and looked at it, all its soft, enticing features, her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, her hair.
"I thought, I thought," he murmured.
Suzanne only stroked the back of his head with her hands.
"Well, if I must, I must," he said.