You are just a very foolish young man, Mr.Lane." He shook his head.
"Look here," he said, "I am very good at meaning things, but it's awfully hard for me to put my thoughts into words.

I can't explain how it's all come about.

I don't know why, amongst all the girls I've seen in my own country, or England, or Paris, or anywhere, there hasn't been one who could bring me the things which you bring, who could fill my mind with the thoughts you fill it with, who could make my days stand still and start again, who could upset the whole machinery of my life so that when you come I want to dance with happiness, and when you go the day is over with me.

There is no chance of my being able to explain this to you, because other fellows, much cleverer than I, have been in the same box, and they've had to come to the conclusion, too, that there isn't any explanation.

I have accepted it.