"My career!" I echoed. "Do you imagine I want to be a politician? Do you think I want to sit on a stuffy green bench and listen to people like dear old George, when I can sail the blue seas and love you?"
"It certainly does sound more attractive," she admitted weakly.
"Of course it is," I said. "It was what we were created for. We'll simply take up life where you left it off when your father died. I'll buy that boat, and we'll wander about the world just as we please for a thousand years, and we'll love each other like the sea loves the wind and the night loves the stars."
I stopped for breath, and, with shining eyes. Astarte leaned forward.
"My Stephen," she said, "you make it very hard."
I took her in my arms and kissed her dear, soft, half-open lips.
"Well," I asked softly, "have you anything else to say, Astarte, before we play billiards?"
She looked up, and I saw the old, delicious smile breaking through her tears.
"Only that I was right after all," she whispered. "I said you were too strong for me, Stephen."