“In a practical way, as I was saying. Long ago I suspected that you had most of those qualities.”
“I'm overwhelmed, Humphrey,” she cried, with her eyes dancing. “But—do you think I could cultivate the rest?”
“Oh, well,” said Mr. Crewe, “I put it that way because no woman is perfect, and I dislike superlatives.”
“I should think superlatives would be very hard to live with,” she reflected. “But—dreadful thought!—suppose I should lack an essential?”
“What—for instance?”
“Love—for instance. But then you did not put it first. It was I who mentioned it, and you who took it for granted.”
“Affection seems to be a more sensible term for it,” he said. “Affection is the lasting and sensible thing. You mentioned a partnership, a word that singularly fits into my notion of marriage. I want to be honest with you, and understate my feelings on that subject.”
Victoria, who had been regarding him with a curious look that puzzled him, laughed again.
“I have been hoping you haven't exaggerated them,” she replied.
“They're stronger than you think,” he declared. “I never felt this way in my life before. What I meant to say was, that I never understood running away with a woman.”