"I don't want you for anything but--a wife! Billy, WON'T you marry me ?" Again Billy laughed--laughed until she saw the pained anger leap to the gray eyes before her; then she became grave at once.
"Bertram, forgive me.

I didn't think you could--you can't be--serious!" "But I am." Billy shook her head.
"But you don't love me--not ME, Bertram.

It's only the turn of my head or--or the tilt of my chin that you love--to paint," she protested, unconsciously echoing the words Calderwell had said to her weeks before.
"I'm only another 'Face of a Girl.'" "You're the only 'Face of a girl' to me now, Billy," declared the man, with disarming tenderness.
"No, no, not that," demurred Billy, in distress.

"You don't mean it.

You only think you do.