'I like you very much,' she said, suddenly thoughtful. 'I've seen you
act like a hero, and you always act like a gentleman. One cannot say
that of many men. If I were not such a wicked flirt, I suppose I should
be in love with you, as I was that day when you left here. I'm glad I'm
not! Do you know that it's frightfully humiliating to want to marry a
man, and to have him object, no matter why?' Lushington said something, but he felt that again the real Margaret had
slipped away out of sight for a while, leaving somebody else in her
place.
Whenever it happened, he felt a little painful sensation of choking,
like a man who is suddenly deprived of air; until he looked at her and
saw that she was outwardly herself. Then he adjusted the halo of
ideality upon the artist again, and continued to love Margaret Donne
with all his heart.