“And you don’t mean that, either,” said Molly, strangely clear-eyed. “You’re not made to care only for one person--you need lots. And if we were married, you’d either have them, or you’d be cramped and unhappy. And you’d want the people I can’t understand or like. And you’d want me to like them, and I couldn’t. And we should both be miserable.” “Oh, Molly, Molly, are we so silly as all that? Just trust life--just live it--don’t let’s brood over it and map out all its difficulties beforehand. Just trust it--and trust love--isn’t love good enough for a pilot?--and we’ll take the plunge together.” She still held him away with her pressing hands, and whispered, “No, love isn’t good enough. Not--not your love for me, Eddy.” “_Not?_” “No.” Quite suddenly she weakened and collapsed, and her hands fell from him, and she hid her face in them and the tears came. “No--don’t touch me, or I can’t say it. I know you care ... but there are so many ways of caring. There’s the way you care for me ... and the way ... the way you’ve always cared for ... her....” Eddy stood and looked down at her as she crouched huddled in a chair, and spoke gently. “There _are_ many ways of caring. Perhaps one cares for each of one’s friends rather differently--I don’t know. But love is different from them all. And I love you, Molly. I have loved no one else, ever, in that sense.... I’m not going to pretend I don’t understand you. By ‘her’ I believe you mean Eileen Le Moine. Now can you look me in the face and say you think I care for Eileen Le Moine in--in that way? No, of course you can’t. You know I don’t; what’s more, you know I never did. I have always admired her, liked her, been fond of her, attracted to her. If you asked why I have never fallen in love with her, I suppose I should answer that it was, in the first instance, because she never gave me the chance. She has always, since I knew her, been so manifestly given over, heart and soul, to someone else. To fall in love with her would have been absurd. Love needs just the element of potential reciprocity; at least, for me it does. There was never that element with Eileen. So I never--quite--fell in love with her. That perhaps was my reason before I found I cared for you. After that, no reason was needed. I had found the real thing.... And now you talk of taking it away from me. Molly, say you don’t mean it; say so at once, please.” She had stopped crying, and sat huddled in the big chair, with downbent, averted face.