“Why should she? I’m poor.”
“Poor? And yet you wagered one thousand dollars that you’d find a horse of a certain strain of blood up here in these woods!”
“A sporting bet; and I have a thousand.”
“But you love her.”
“You are wrong. I thought I did, once or twice—or thought I thought I did. It was all a matter of thinking, as I see it now. But it doesn’t matter. Do you—are you—do you love someone?”
“What?”
“Do you love somebody?”
“I think—yes.”
“Think? Don’t you know?”
“Yes—I know.”