“But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. ” “I suppose I must have thought so. . \"He still likes you, I believe. She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. ” “I’m delighted,” she exclaimed. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. I could never have talked to you like this, forgetting everything that parts us, forgetting even your age, if I did not love you utterly.
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