"Yes--go on. Do not grow sorry for me. Say what you were going to--'who
has put herself into my power, and who has lost the right of meeting me on
equal terms.' Say what you think. At least we two may speak the truth to
one another."

Then she added after a pause:

"I believe you do love me, as much as you possibly could love anything; and
I believe that when you ask me to marry you you are performing the most
generous act you ever have performed in the course of your life, or ever
will; but, at the same time, if I had required your generosity, it would
not have been shown me. If, when I got your letter a month ago, hinting at
your willingness to marry me, I had at once written, imploring you to come,
you would have read the letter. 'Poor little devil!' you would have said,
and tore it up. The next week you would have sailed for Europe, and have
sent me a check for a hundred and fifty pounds (which I would have thrown
in the fire), and I would have heard no more of you."

The stranger smiled.

"But because I declined your proposal, and wrote that in three weeks I
should be married to another, then what you call love woke up. Your man's
love is a child's love for butterflies. You follow till you have the
thing, and break it. If you have broken one wing, and the thing flies
still, then you love it more than ever, and follow till you break both;
then you are satisfied when it lies still on the ground."

"You are profoundly wise in the ways of the world; you have seen far into
life," he said.