“Do not ever speak to me about what you owe me!” His words hung between them. “Do you wish that I had not accepted you?” she asked at last, feeling strangely desolate. His face softened a bit, and he reached out towards her, only to pull back. “No. But I told you once that I did not want your gratitude, and I tell you now that I do not want your sense of obligation or—heaven forbid!—your pity.” “What do you want?” He looked until her eyes fell. “You know what I want.”
