'Hear me out,' he went on. 'Is this the only country? After the war, won't everything be different? Thank goodness, I'm well provided for. You needn't take a farthing. Leave even your own income to Bruce if you like. You know I've five thousand a year now, Edith?' 'I didn't know it. But that has nothing on earth to do with it,' she answered. 'Bosh! It has a great deal to do with it. I can afford to bring your children up as well as Teddy, my boy. We can marry. And in a year or two no one would think any more about it.' 'You bewilder me,' said Edith. 'I want to. Think it over. Don't be weak. I'm sorry, dear, to ask you to take the blame on your side. It's unfair; but after all, perhaps, it's straighter than waiting for an opportunity (which you could easily get in time) of finding Bruce in the wrong.' Her face expressed intense determination and disagreement with his views. 'Don't answer me,' he said, 'think--' 'My dear boy, you must let me answer you. Will you listen to me?' 'Go on, Edith. I'll always listen to you.' 'You don't realise it, but you're not well,' she said. He gave an impatient gesture. 'How like a woman! As soon as I talk sense you say I'm not well. A broken leg doesn't affect the brain, remember.' 'No, Aylmer; I don't mean that. But you've been thinking this over till you've lost your bearings, your sense of proportion....' 'Rot! I've just got it! That's what you mean. It comes to this, my dear girl'--he spoke gently. 'Of course, if you don't care for me, my suggestion would be perfectly mad. Perhaps you don't. Probably you regard our romance as a pretty little story to look back on.' 'No, I don't, unless--' 'I won't ask you straight out,' he said. 'I don't suppose you know yourself. But, if you care for me, as I do for you'--he spoke steadily--'you'll do as I ask.' 'I might love you quite as much, and yet not do it.' 'I know it's a big thing. It's a sacrifice, in a way. But don't you see, Edith, that if you still like me, your present life is a long, slow sacrifice to convention, or (as you say) to a morbid sense of responsibility?' She looked away with a startled expression. 'Well, do you love me?' he said rather impatiently, but yet with his old charm of tenderness and sincerity. 'I have never changed. As you know, after the operation, when they thought I was practically done in--it may seem a bit mad, but I was really more sane than I have ever been--I told Dulcie Clay all about it.' She stopped him. 'I know you did, my dear, and I don't blame you a bit. She's absolutely loyal. But now, listen. Has nothing occurred to you about her?' 'Nothing, except that I'm hoping to get rid of her as soon as possible.' 'She's madly in love with you, Aylmer.' He looked contemptuous. 'She's a dear girl,' said Edith. 'I feel quite fond of her.' 'Really, I don't see how she comes in. You are perverse, Edith!' 'I'm not perverse. I see things.'