position would be, if she once assumed it. On such a road as that
there is no turning back. The die once cast, she must forever
abide by it. He used all arts to persuade and dissuade; all
eloquence to save her from herself and her salvation. If he loved
her less, he said with truth, he might have spoken less earnestly.
It was for her own sake he spoke, because he so loved her. He
waxed hot in his eager desire to prevent her from taking this fatal
step. He drew his breath hard, and paused. Emotion and anxiety
overcame him visibly.

But as for Herminia, though she listened with affection and with a
faint thrill of pleasure to much that he said, seeing how deeply he
loved her, she leaned back from time to time, half weary with his
eagerness, and his consequent iteration. "Dear Alan," she said at
last, soothing his hand with her own, as a sister might have
soothed it, "you talk about all this as though it were to me some
new resolve, some new idea of my making. You forget it is the
outcome of my life's philosophy. I have grown up to it slowly.
I have thought of all this, and of hardly anything else, ever since
I was old enough to think for myself about anything. Root and
branch, it is to me a foregone conclusion. I love you. You love
me. So far as I am concerned, there ends the question. One way
there is, and one way alone, in which I can give myself up to you.
Make me yours if you will; but if not, then leave me. Only,
remember, by leaving me, you won't any the more turn me aside from
my purpose. You won't save me from myself, as you call it; you
will only hand me over to some one less fit for me by far than you
are." A quiet moisture glistened in her eyes, and she gazed at him
pensively. "How wonderful it is," she went on, musing. "Three
weeks ago, I didn't know there was such a man in the world at all