"That doesn't matter, and, anyway, you're quite a dear."
I bowed gravely. "I try to look at things from a high standpoint," I continued. "Now, Diana, I consider you are perfect. I love you intensely because you are so perfect."
"Don't be silly, dear."
"I mean it. On the other hand, I know myself very well indeed."
"You think so."
"I do. And I have come to the conclusion, after many racking hours, that I am not worthy of you. The proper course, the only course, is for me to release you." And I sighed heavily.
"Well," said Diana, "of course it's a very pretty idea, and I'm glad you're so fond of me, but the whole thing's absurd. I've accepted you and there's an end of it."
"Diana, you're making it very hard."
"I'm making it impossible."
"No," I declared, "because—I release you now."