"But I am very unreasonable in my wishes," said Gwendolen, smiling.
"Yes, I expect that. Women always are."
"Then I will not be unreasonable," said Gwendolen, taking away her hand, and tossing her head saucily. "I will not be told that I am what women always are."
"I did not say that," said Grandcourt, looking at her with his usual gravity. "You are what no other woman is."
"And what is that, pray?" said Gwendolen, moving to a distance with a little air of menace.
Grandcourt made his pause before he answered. "You are the woman I love."
"Oh what nice speeches!" said Gwendolen, laughing. The sense of that love which he must once have given to another woman under strange circumstances was getting familiar.
"Give me a nice speech in return. Say when we are to be married."
"Not yet. Not till we have had a gallop over the downs. I am so thirsty for that, I can think of nothing else. I wish the hunting had begun. Sunday the twentieth, twenty-seventh, Monday, Tuesday." Gwendolen was counting on her fingers with the prettiest nod while she looked at Grandcourt, and at last swept one palm over the other
