She grasped his arm with both hands and remained motionless for a
moment during which her eyes fastened themselves upon his with a
strangely rigid gleam.

"What evil have I done?" he asked. "Do you remember our childhood's
verse: 'I am small, my heart is pure?' Have mercy on me."

"I was only playing at passion," she said with the old half-wistful,
half-mocking smile, "in order that our relations may not lose solid
ground utterly."

"What do you mean?" he asked, pretending astonishment. "And do you
really think, Richard, that between us, things, being as they
are--are right?"

"I can't imagine any change that could take place at present."

She hid a hot flush of shame. She was obviously of the opinion that he
had interpreted her meaning in the light of a desire for marriage. All
earthly possibilities had been discussed between them: this one alone
had been sedulously avoided in all their conversations.

"Don't misunderstand me," he continued, determined to skirt the
dangerous subject with grace and ease, "there's no question here of
anything external, of any change of front with reference to the world.
It's far too late for that. ... Let us remain--if I may so put it--in
our spiritual four walls. Given our characters or, I had better say,
given your character I see no other relation between us that promises
any permanence.... If I were to pursue you with a kind of infatuation,
or you me with jealousy--it would be insupportable to us both."