The Lost World

"But you must – you, with your beauty, with your soul! Oh, Gladys, you were made for love! You must love!" "One must wait till it comes." "But why can't you love me, Gladys? Is it my appearance, or what?" She did unbend a little. She put forward a hand – such a gracious, stooping attitude it was – and she pressed back my head. Then she looked into my upturned face with a very wistful smile. "No it isn't that," she said at last. "You're not a conceited boy by nature, and so I can safely tell you it is not that. It's deeper." "My character?"