"Don't repeat it too often, or I shall begin to think you don't mean it."

"Well," said Stanmer, "I think this, at any rate--that you take an
extraordinary responsibility in trying to put a man out of conceit of a
woman who, as he believes, may make him very happy."

I grasped his arm, and we stopped, going on with our talk like a couple
of Florentines.

"Do you wish to marry her?"

He looked away, without meeting my eyes. "It's a great responsibility,"
he repeated.

"Before Heaven," I said, "I would have married the mother! You are
exactly in my situation."

"Don't you think you rather overdo the analogy?" asked poor Stanmer.

"A little more, a little less--it doesn't matter. I believe you are in
my shoes. But of course if you prefer it, I will beg a thousand pardons
and leave them to carry you where they will."

He had been looking away, but now he slowly turned his face and met my
eyes. "You have gone too far to retreat; what is it you know about her?"

"About this one--nothing. But about the other--"

"I care nothing about the other!"