So you see, I must have loved you then, though unconsciously, perhaps; and I love you now." "No, no, please don't say that.

It can't be--it really can't be.

I--I don't love you--that way, Bertram." The man paled a little.
"Billy--forgive me for asking, but it's so much to me--is it that there is--some one else ?" His voice shook.
"No, no, indeed! There is no one." "It's not--Calderwell ?" Billy's forehead grew pink.

She laughed nervously.
"No, no, never!" "But there are others, so many others!" "Nonsense, Bertram; there's no one--no one, I assure you!" "It's not William, of course, nor Cyril.

Cyril hates women." A deeper flush came to Billy's face.