C.-C. She had the most adorable little nose, like yours. . . .
Elizabeth. D’you like my nose?
C.-C. And she was very dainty, with a beautiful little figure; very light on her feet. She was like a marquise in an old French comedy. Yes, she was lovely.
Elizabeth. And I’m sure she’s lovely still.
C.-C. She’s no chicken, you know.
Elizabeth. You can’t expect me to look at it as you and Arnold do. When you’ve loved as she’s loved you may grow old, but you grow old beautifully.
C.-C. You’re very romantic.
Elizabeth. If everyone hadn’t made such a mystery of it I daresay I shouldn’t feel as I do. I know she did a great wrong to you and a great wrong to Arnold. I’m willing to acknowledge that.
C.-C. I’m sure it’s very kind of you.
Elizabeth. But she loved and she dared. Romance is such an illusive thing. You read of it in books, but it’s seldom you see it face to face. I can’t help it if it thrills me.