"Will you never understand even after the hundreds and hundreds of talks we have had? I have marked out a settled, determined path in life which I intend to follow--so that even if I loved you I would crush all emotion out of myself, since indulging in it would ruin my aims, and drag us both to social perdition meanwhile. It is extremely fatiguing to have to recommence explaining our positions every time you come back from abroad. As a friend I delight in you--I love our talks, our discussions and controversies. I have tried in every way to improve under your tuition, but if you will be weak and give way to other feelings--it is you who put yourself on the rack--And if you do it I cannot help it, it cannot change my determination, even if I see you suffering." "How can a man worship anything so logical?" "I don't know; what I do know is that I never mean to admit that you have any feelings for me but those I have for you, of warm friendship. I shall always act as if you were only my friend, and only consider any of my actions as affecting you from that point of view. If you are hurt it is your own fault, I cannot be responsible for the pain." He clenched his hands with sudden violence. "And if I refused to bear it--if I broke all friendship and never spoke to you again--what then?" "You would be quite right to do so if it gave you any satisfaction. I should miss you--but I should understand." He gave a faint groan. "Well, I have not the strength to throw off your influence. I always think I have done it when I go to foreign climes, and I dwell upon the pleasure that your intellect gives me. I come back quite resigned, but the first sight of you, the sight of those red, wicked lips and that white skin drives me mad once more, and I feel I do not care whether you have any brain or no, in the overwhelming desire to hold you in my arms." Katherine gave an exclamation of weariness. "Oh, it is tiresome that you must always have these scenes when you return, they spoil everything. You force me to seem cruel. Why can't you accept the situation?" "Because I am a man and you are a woman," and his eyes sought hers with passion, "and all the rest of emotion is but make-believe; the only real part is the tangible. To have and to hold, to clasp and to kiss, to strain the loved one next the heart--Katherine, you make me suffer the tortures of the damned." "No--you permit yourself to suffer them, that makes all the difference. If I made you, then I should feel as wicked as you say my lips look." Here Lady Beatrice interrupted them in her plaintive, drawling voice. "Gerard, can you imagine it! Aunt Sarah has just had a letter from Tom Hawthorne by the evening's post, announcing that Läo has quietly married that boy in Paris, and they are going to Monte Carlo for their honeymoon! Isn't it quite too tragic for them, poor things!" Lady Garribardine joined the group, with the epistle in her hand.