"I can't help it. You are so utterly foolish."

"I'm not. It's the proper thing. I tell you I've planned it all out. I
love you. I've never said it to you before. Now it's your turn."

"But what on earth am I to say?"

"You've got to say that you love me."

"You're making a farce of it."

"No, I tell you I've planned it all out. I can't go on till you've
said it."

"You can't expect me to say: 'George, I love you.' It's ridiculous.
It's like a funny story."

"Oh, never mind what it's like. Do be serious, Mary. How can I be sure
you love me if you won't tell me?"

For the first moment since its happening the thought of Bob Chater and
of Mrs. Chater passed completely from Mary's mind. She looked around:
there was no soul in sight. She listened: there was no sound. She
clasped her fingers about his; leaned towards him, her face
upturned....

He kissed her upon the lips....

"The plans," said George after a moment, "have all gone fut. I never