"You can't," she answered. "It will be years"

"But I love you," I insisted.

I stood not a yard from the sweet lips I had kissed; I stood within
arm's length of the inanimate beauty I desired to quicken, and I saw
opening between us a gulf of years, toil, waiting, disappointments and
an immense uncertainty.

"I love you," I said. "Don't you love me?"

She looked me in the face with grave irresponsive eyes.

"I don't know," she said. "I LIKE you, of course.... One has to be
sensibl..."

I can remember now my sense of frustration by her unresilient reply.
I should have perceived then that for her my ardour had no quickening
fire. But how was I to know? I had let myself come to want her, my
imagination endowed her with infinite possibilities. I wanted her and
wanted her, stupidly and instinctively....

"But," I said "Love--!"

"One has to be sensible," she replied. "I like going about with you.
Can't we keep as we are?'"

VI

Well, you begin to understand my breakdown now, I have been copious