I shall not even think of it.

You cannot suspect me of the meanness to talk to Miss Thesiger of anything of the kind." She looked at me with a dazed face, as though she could barely grasp my meaning.
"Tell me it again," she said.

"I cannot believe it." "Listen, Coralie: I love Agatha Thesiger with all my heart, and hope very soon to make her my wife.

I love her so dearly that I have no room in my heart for even a thought of any other woman." Her face grew ghastly in its pallor.
"That is sufficient," she said; "now I understand." "We will both forget what has been said tonight, Coralie; we will never think of it, but for the future be good cousins and good friends." "No," she said, proudly; "there can be no friendship between us." "You will think better of it; believe me, you have no truer friends than Clare and myself." "If I ask for bread and you give me a stone, is that anything to make me grateful?
But I declare to you, Sir Edgar Trevelyan, that you have slain me; you have slain the womanhood in me tonight by the most cruel blow!" She looked so wild, so white, so despairing, I went up to her.
"Coralie," I said, "forget all this nonsense and be your own bright self again." "My own bright self will never live again; a man's scorn has killed me." Suddenly, before I knew what she was doing, she had flung herself in a fearful passion of tears in my arms.

She was sobbing with her face close to mine and her hot hands clinging to me.
"With it all, Edgar, she does not love you; she loved Miles; she loves Crown Anstey, and not you.