how afraid you were to tell me?--your throat went dry, and you
stroked your forehead as you always do when you are nervous--There!
you are doing it now, foolish boy!'

I seized his left arm, and gently pulled it down from his face. Oh,
exquisite moment!

'It was brave of you to tell me--very brave! I loved you for telling me.
You were quite wrong about the end of that book. You didn't see the fine
point of it, and you never would have seen it--and I liked you, somehow,
for not seeing it, because it was so feminine--but I altered the book to
please you, and when I had altered it, against my conscience, I loved
you more.'

'It's incredible! incredible!' he muttered, half to himself. 'I never
hoped till lately that you would care for me. I never dared to think of
such a thing. I knew you oughtn't to! It passes comprehension.'

'That is just what love does,' I said.

'No, no,' he went on quickly; 'you don't understand; you can't understand
my feelings when I began to suspect, about two months ago, that, after
all, the incredible had happened. I'm nothing but your publisher. I can't
talk. I can't write. I can't play. I can't do anything. And look at the
men you have here! I've sometimes wondered how often you've been
besieged--'

'None of them was like you,' I said. 'Perhaps that is why I have always
kept them off.'

I raised my eyes and lips, and he stooped and kissed me. He wanted to
take me in his arms again, but I would not yield myself.

'Be reasonable,' I urged him. 'Ought we not to think of our situation?'

He loosed me, stammering apologies, abasing himself.

'I ought to leave you, I ought never to see you again.' He spoke roughly.
'What am I doing to you? You who are so innocent and pure!'

'I entreat you not to talk like that,' I gasped, reddening.

'But I must talk like that,' he insisted. 'I must talk like that. You had
everything that a woman can desire, and I come into your life and offer
you--what?'

'I _have_ everything a woman can desire,' I corrected him softly.

'Angel!' he breathed. 'If I bring you disaster, you will forgive me,
won't you?'

'My happiness will only cease with your love,' I said.

'Happiness!' he repeated. 'I have never been so happy as I am now; but
such happiness is terrible. It seems to me impossible that such happiness
can last.'

'Faint heart!' I chided him.

'It is for you I tremble,' he said. 'If--if--' He stopped. 'My darling,
forgive me!'

How I pitied him