something that has to be taken care of. One has to be so careful.... It's a beautiful plant, but a tender one.... I didn't know. I've a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. How can I tell you all I feel? I love you beyond measure. And I'm afraid.... I'm anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he has found a treasure."
"YOU know," said Ann Veronica. "I just came to you and put myself in your hands."
"That's why, in a way, I'm prudish. I've—dreads. I don't want to tear at you with hot, rough hands."
"As you will, dear lover. But for me it doesn't matter. Nothing is wrong that you do. Nothing. I am quite clear about this. I know exactly what I am doing. I give myself to you."
"God send you may never repent it!" cried Capes.
She put her hand in his to be squeezed.
"You see," he said, "it is doubtful if we can ever marry. Very doubtful. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again. I will do my utmost. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends."
He paused. She answered slowly. "That is as you will," she said.
"Why should it matter?" he said.
And then, as she answered nothing, "Seeing that we are lovers."
Part 7
It was rather less than a week after that walk that Capes came and sat down beside Ann Veronica for their
