read disillusionizing Jack.

ANN. [her face lighting up with mischievous ecstasy--whispering] I
can't: he has no illusions about me. I shall surprise Jack the other
way. Getting over an unfavorable impression is ever so much easier than
living up to an ideal. Oh, I shall enrapture Jack sometimes!

OCTAVIUS. [resuming the calm phase of despair, and beginning to enjoy
his broken heart and delicate attitude without knowing it] I don't doubt
that. You will enrapture him always. And he--the fool!--thinks you would
make him wretched.

ANN. Yes: that's the difficulty, so far.

OCTAVIUS. [heroically] Shall I tell him that you love?

ANN. [quickly] Oh no: he'd run away again.

OCTAVIUS. [shocked] Ann: would you marry an unwilling man?

ANN. What a queer creature you are, Tavy! There's no such thing as a
willing man when you really go for him. [She laughs naughtily]. I'm
shocking you, I suppose. But you know you are really getting a sort of
satisfaction already in being out of danger yourself.

OCTAVIUS [startled] Satisfaction! [Reproachfully] You say that to me!

ANN. Well, if it were really agony, would you ask for more of it?

OCTAVIUS. Have I asked for more of it?

ANN. You have offered to tell Jack that I love him. That's
self-sacrifice, I suppose; but there must be some satisfaction in it.
Perhaps it's because you're a poet. You are like the bird that presses
its breast against the sharp thorn to make itself sing.

OCTAVIUS. It's quite simple. I love you; and I want you to be happy. You
don't love me; so I can't make you happy myself; but I can help another
man to do it.

ANN. Yes: it seems quite simple. But I doubt if we ever know why we do
things. The only really simple thing is to go straight for what you want
and grab it. I suppose I don't love you, Tavy; but sometimes I feel
as if I should like to make a man of you somehow. You are very foolish
about women.

OCTAVIUS. [almost coldly] I am content to be what I am in that respect.

ANN. Then you must keep away from them, and only dream about them. I
wouldn't marry you for worlds, Tavy.

OCTAVIUS. I have no hope, Ann: I accept my ill luck. But I don't think
you quite know how much it hurts.

ANN. You are so softhearted! It's queer that you should be so different
from Violet. Violet's as hard as nails.

OCTAVIUS. Oh no. I am sure Violet is thoroughly womanly at heart.

ANN. [with some impatience] Why do you say that? Is it unwomanly to be
thoughtful