“You mustn't put me on a pedestal,” she said gently. “I want you to see me as I am—I don't want you to wake up some day and be disappointed. I'll have to learn a lot of things, and you'll have to teach me. I can't get used to the fact that you, who are so practical and successful in business, should be such a dreamer where I am concerned.”
I laughed, and told her, comfortably, that she was talking nonsense.
“What did you think of me, when you first knew me?” I inquired.
“Well,” she answered, with the courage that characterized her, “I thought you were rather calculating, that you put too high a price on success. Of course you attracted me. I own it.”
“You hid your opinions rather well,” I retorted, somewhat discomfited.
She flushed.
“Have you changed them?” I demanded.
“I think you have that side, and I think it a weak side, Hugh. It's hard to tell you this, but it's better to say so now, since you ask me. I do think you set too high a value on success.'
“Well, now that I know what success really is, perhaps I shall reform,” I told her.
“I don't like to think that you fool yourself,” she replied, with a perspicacity I should have found extraordinary.