If he will, he does not love you; mark what I say, Valerie--he does not love you enough.

No man can love a woman enough to accept that from her; it would be a paradox, I tell you!" "He loves me enough," said Valerie, very pale.

"He could not love me as I care for him; it is not in a man to do it, nor in any human being to love as I love him.

You don't understand, Rita.

I _must_ be a part of him--not very much, because already there is so much to him--and I am so--so unimportant." "You are more important than he is," said Rita fiercely--"with all your fineness and loyalty and divine sympathy and splendid humility--with your purity and your loveliness; and in spite of his very lofty intellect and his rather amazing genius, and his inherited social respectability--_you_ are the more important to the happiness and welfare of this world--even to the humblest corner in it!" "Rita! Rita! What wild, partisan nonsense you are talking!" [Illustration: "His thoughts were mostly centred on Valerie."] "Oh, Valerie, Valerie, if you only knew! If you only knew!" * * * * * Querida called next day.