"Ah--but I know better now. You've taught me everything. Only I never knew it till last night when I touched you. It was like a spark to a bonfire that I've been piling up ever since I've known you. You've taught me what life is, and love. Love can't be wrong. It's only wrong when it's stealing. We shouldn't be robbing anybody. We should both work better--happiness makes people work--I see that now. I should have to give up parish work--but there's plenty of good work wants doing. Why, I've nearly finished that book of mine. I've worked at it night after night--with the thought of you hidden behind the work. If you were my wife, what work I could do! Oh, Betty, if you only loved me!" She lifted her face and looked at him gravely. He flung his arm round her shoulders and turned her face up to his. She was passive to his kisses. At last she kissed him, once, and drew herself from his arms. "Come," she said. She led him to the garden seat in the nut-avenue. "Now," she said, when he had taken his place beside her, "I'm going to tell you the whole truth. I was very angry with you when you came to me that first day. You were quite right. That boy had been holding my hand: what's more, he had been kissing it. It amused me, and if it hurt him I didn't care. Then you came. And you said things. And then you said you weren't afraid of me or my weapons. It was a challenge. And I determined to make you love me. It was all planned, the helping in your work--and keeping out of your way at first was to make you wish to see me. And, you see, I succeeded. You _did_ love me." "I do," he said. He caught her hand and held it fiercely. "I deserved it all. I was a brute to you." "I meant you to love me--and you did love me. I lied to you in almost everything--at first." "About that man--was that a lie?" he asked fiercely. "No," she laughed drearily. "That was true enough. You see, it was more effective than any lie I could have invented. No lie could have added a single horror to _that_ story! And so I've won--as I swore I would!" "Is that all," he said, "all the truth?" "It's all there's any need for," she said. "I want it all. I want to know where I am--whether I really was mad last night. Betty--in spite of all your truth I can't believe one thing. I can't believe that you don't love me." "Man's vanity," she began, with a flippant laugh. "Don't!" he said harshly. "How dare you try to play with me? Man's vanity! But it's your honour! I know you love me. If you didn't you would be--" "How do you know I'm not?" "Silence," he said. "If you can't speak the truth hold your tongue and let me speak it. I love you--and you love me--and we are going to be happy."