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(
Her
brother
strolls
in
,
starts
and
then
in
a
loud
voice
says
:
"
Oh
,
excuse
me
,
"
and
goes
.
)
ROSALIND
:
(
Her
lips
scarcely
stirring
)
Do
n't
let
me
go
--
I
do
n't
care
who
knows
what
I
do
.
AMORY
:
Say
it
!
ROSALIND
:
I
love
you
--
now
.
(
They
part
.
)
Oh
--
I
am
very
youthful
,
thank
God
--
and
rather
beautiful
,
thank
God
--
and
happy
,
thank
God
,
thank
God
--
(
She
pauses
and
then
,
in
an
odd
burst
of
prophecy
,
adds
)
Poor
Amory
!
(
He
kisses
her
again
.
)
KISMET
Within
two
weeks
Amory
and
Rosalind
were
deeply
and
passionately
in
love
.
The
critical
qualities
which
had
spoiled
for
each
of
them
a
dozen
romances
were
dulled
by
the
great
wave
of
emotion
that
washed
over
them
.
"
It
may
be
an
insane
love-affair
,
"
she
told
her
anxious
mother
,
"
but
it
's
not
inane
.
"
The
wave
swept
Amory
into
an
advertising
agency
early
in
March
,
where
he
alternated
between
astonishing
bursts
of
rather
exceptional
work
and
wild
dreams
of
becoming
suddenly
rich
and
touring
Italy
with
Rosalind
.
They
were
together
constantly
,
for
lunch
,
for
dinner
,
and
nearly
every
evening
--
always
in
a
sort
of
breathless
hush
,
as
if
they
feared
that
any
minute
the
spell
would
break
and
drop
them
out
of
this
paradise
of
rose
and
flame
.
But
the
spell
became
a
trance
,
seemed
to
increase
from
day
to
day
;
they
began
to
talk
of
marrying
in
July
--
in
June
.
