"And I don't think you are a mess. And I don't hate you." She was smiling very strangely. "Yes, I remember that first time. And no matter what they said, I always cared heaps more about you, Rob, than I dared let you know. And if only you had been as dependable as Peter--But, you see, you weren't--"
"No, dear, you did the right thing--what was best for all of us--"
"Then don't mind so much. Oh, Bob, it hurts me to see you mind so much! You aren't--being dependable, like Peter, even now," she said, reproachfully....
Heine was right; there is an Aristophanes in heaven.
