“Be less a comrade, more a sweetheart.”

“Familiar?”

My heart was beating fast:

“Familiar to my arms. I love you.”

“I — do not permit myself to desire your arms. Can I help saying so — if you ask me?”

“When I love you so — — ”

“No. Why are you, after all, like other men, when I once hoped — — ”

“Other men love. All men love. How can I be different — — ”

“You are more finely made. You comprehend higher thoughts. You can command your lesser passions.”