She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it.
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