I--if you had, I would have known how to be gentle.
I--I wish to be now.

I like you--enough to say this to you, enough to be seriously sorry; if I could bring myself to really believe this--feeling--" Still he said nothing; he sat there listlessly studying the sun spots glowing, waxing, waning on the carpet of dead leaves at his feet.
"As for--what you have said," she added, a little smile curving the sensitive mouth, "it is impulsive, unconsidered, a trifle boyish, Mr.
Siward.

I pay myself the compliment of your sincerity; it is rather nice to be a girl who can awaken the romance in a man within a day or two's acquaintance.

...

And that is all it is--a romantic impulse with a pretty girl.