Charles: I've just understood something. You see, every time I've looked at you here on the boat it wasn't only here I saw you. You seemed to go way back. I know that isn't clear but I, I saw you here and at the same time further away, and then still further away and then very small, like converging perspective lines. No, that isn't it, it's like, like people following each other in a forest glade. Only way back there you were a little girl with short dresses and your hair falling to your shoulders and a little boy is standing with you holding your hand, and in the middle distance I'm still with you, not holding your hand anymore because it isn't manly, but wanting to. And then still further, we look terrible, you with your legs like a colt and mine like a calf. What I'm trying to say is, only I'm not a poet, I'm an ophiologist, I've always loved you. I mean I've never loved anyone but you. I know that sounds dull as a drug store novel, and what I see inside I'll never be able to cast into words, but that's what I mean. I wish we were married and on our honeymoon now.
Jean: So do I. But it isn't as simple as all that, Hopsie. I'm terribly in love, and you seem to be too, so one of us has to think and try and keep things clear. And maybe I can do that better than you can. They say a moonlit deck is a woman's business office.
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