And of course that made it hopeless, since, surely, no woman has ever loved the kindest face she knew.
Only a fool would have hoped after this--and at least I never gave her ground to call me that.

Not even did I commit the folly of revealing my need.

She alone ever knew it, and she only in the way that the child had known the schoolboy to gloom and rage afar in his passion for her.

She had no word of mine for it then, nor had she now, and I believe she felt rather certain there never would be any.

She seemed to be grateful for this and doubly kind, with only now and then the flash of a knowing look, or the trifle of a deep, swiftly questioning glance, born, I dare say, of that curiosity which the devil contrives to kindle in God's most angelic women.
Doubtless she had a little speech of refusal patted into kindliness for me.