They were still in the happier stages of love. They were full of brave illusions about each other, tremendous illusions, so that the communion of self with self seemed to be on a plane where no other human relations mattered.

“Fifteen years of yes's had beaten Mrs. Gilbert. Fifteen further years of that i…”

“One should . . . be able to see things as hopeless and yet be determined to mak…”

“Those days are over. I have to be won all over again every time you see me.”

“Go on, she urged. Lie to me by the moonlight. Do a fabulous story.”