“Maybe,” he says slowly, as if each word is an effort, “she took advantage of me.”

“I love you, Desdemona.”“I know,” she whispered. “You don’t have to say the words.”He smiled slowly. “Trust me, you’re going to hear them every day for the rest of our lives.”

“It was like they waited to tell each other things that had never been told before. What she had to say was terrible and afraid. But what he would tell her was so true that it would make everything all right. Maybe it was a thing that could not be spoken with words or writing. Maybe he would have to let her understand this in a different way. That was the feeling she had with him.”

“Are you saying...I was your icebreaker?"Those honey-colored eyes darkened with concern. "Tell me that's okay with you. I know your emotions weren't involved, but still, nobody likes to think they've been taken advantage of."He unclenched his teeth. "And that's what you did? You took advantage of me?""I wasn't, you know, picturing him in my mind last night when I was with you or anything. Well, maybe for a couple of seconds, but that's all, I swear.”

“She breathed slowly, searching for words. "You've set me free, and I can't be caged again.”

“He sat with his yes fixed on hers while she spoke; then he lowered them and attached them to a spot on the carpet as if he were making a strong effort to say nothing but what he ought. He was a strong man in the wrong, and he was acute enough to see that an uncompromising exhibition of his strength would only throw the falsity of his position into relief. Isabel was not incapable of taking any advantage of position over a person of this quality, and though little desirous to flaunt it in his face she could enjoy being able to say 'You know you oughtn't to have written to me yourself!' and to say it with an air of triumph.”