Section 2. We men are like children. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. These were so outside her experience that she found it possible to thrust them almost out of sight by saying they would be “all right” in confident tones to herself. She was surprised at his modesty. I did all for the best, I'm sure. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it.
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