"I want to respect you," she repeated, more gently. "I don't want to
think that--that what we feel for each other is--unconsecrated."
"It consecrates itself," I declared.
She shook her head.
"Surely it has its roots in everything that is fine in both of us."
"We both went wrong," said Nancy. "We both sought to wrest power and
happiness from the world, to make our own laws. How can we assert
that--this is not merely a continuation of it?"
"But can't we work out our beliefs together?" I demanded. "Won't you
trust me, trust our love for one another?"
Her breath came and went quickly.
"Oh, you know that I want you, Hugh, as much as you want me, and more.
The time may come when I can't resist you."
"Why do you resist me?" I cried, seizing her hands convulsively, and
swept by a gust of passion at her confession.
"Try to understand that I am fighting for both of us!" she pleaded--an
appeal that wrung me in spite of the pitch to which my feelings had been
raised. "Hugh, dear, we must think it out. Don't now."