“In what way can the star be cognisant of the moth's desire?” said Jimmie, going back to the refrain of his love.
“You a moth and she a star! You are a man and she is but a trumpery bit of female flesh that on a word would throw herself into your arms.”
“No,” said Jimmie, hoarsely. “No, you don't know what you are saying.”
The temptation to goad him was irresistible.
“We are all of us alike, all of us. Tell her.”
“I dare n't.”
“Tell me who she is.”
She looked at him full, with meaning in her eyes, which glowed like deep moons in the dusk. He brought all his courage into his glance. He was the master. She turned away her head in confusion, reading his love, his strength, his loyalty. A lesser man loving her would have thrown honour to the winds. A curious reverence of him filled her. She felt a small thing beside him. All doubts vanished forever. Her faith in him was as crystal clear as Aline's.
“I have no right to mention her name,” he said after a pause.
Norma leaned back in her chair and passed her handkerchief across her lips.