Athalie
Page 150"Why?" he asked unsteadily.
"Because you ought to tell me. I should not wish to die and never know
it."
"Would you care?"
"Care? Do you ask a girl whether she could remain unmoved,
uninterested, indifferent, if the man she cares for most falls in love
with her?"
"Could you--respond?"
"Respond? With love? I don't know. How can I tell? I believe that I
have never been in love in all my life. I don't know what it feels
like. You might as well ask somebody born blind to read an ordinary
book.... But one thing is certain: if that ever happens to you, you
ought to tell me. Will you?"
"What good would it do?"
"Suppose, knowing we could not marry, I made love to you, Athalie?"
Suddenly the smile flashed in her eyes: "Do you think I'm a baby,
Clive? Suppose, knowing what we know, you did make love to me? Is that
very dreadful?"
"My responsibility would be."
"The responsibility is mine. I'm my own mistress. If I chose to be
yours the responsibility is mine--"
"Don't say such things, Athalie!"
"Why not? Such things happen--or they don't happen. I have no idea
they're likely to happen to us.... I'm not a bit alarmed, Clive....
Perhaps it's the courage of ignorance--" She glanced at him again with
the same curious, questioning look in her eyes,--"Perhaps because I
cannot comprehend any such temptation.... And never could....
you to remain dumb. You have a right to speak. Love isn't a question
of conditions or of convenience. You ought to have your chance."
"Chance!"
"Certainly."
"What chance?"
"To win me."
"Win you!--when I can't marry you--"
"I didn't say marry; I said, win.... If you ever fell in love with me
you would wish to win my love, wouldn't you? And if you did, and I
gave it to you, you would have won me for yourself, wouldn't you? Then
why should you worry concerning how I might love you? That would be
my affair, my personal responsibility. And I admit to you that I know
no more than a kitten what I might do about it."
and suddenly threw back her head, laughing deliciously: "Did you ever
before take part in such a ridiculous conversation?" she demanded.
"Oh, but I have always adored theoretical conversations. Only give me
an interesting subject and take one end of it and I'll gratefully
grasp the other, Clive. What an odd man you are; and I suppose I'm
odd, too. And we may yet live to inhabit an odd little house
together.... Wouldn't the world tear me to tatters!... I wonder if I'd
dare--even knowing I was all right!"... The laughter died in her
eyes; a swift tenderness melted them: "I do care for you so truly,
Clive! I can't bear to think of ever again living without you.... You
know it isn't silliness or love or anything except what I've always
felt for you--loyalty and devotion, endless, eternal. And that is all
there is or ever will be in my heart and mind."