He got as far as saying to himself

"Why not?""Because you're the only man with whom I can imagine the otherkind of greatness."It moved him--moved him unexpectedly. He got as far as saying to himself: "Good God, if she were not so hideously rich--" andthen of yielding for a moment to the persuasive vision of allthat he and she might do with those very riches which hedreaded. After all, there was nothing mean in her ideals theywere hard and material, in keeping with her primitive andmassive person; but they had a certain grim nobility. And whenshe spoke of "the other kind of greatness" he knew that sheunderstood what she was talking of, and was not merely sayingsomething to draw him on, to get him to commit himself. Therewas not a drop of guile in her, except that which her veryhonesty distilled. 　　"The other kind of greatness?" he repeated. 　　"Well, isn't that what you said happiness was? I wanted to behappy ... but one can't choose."He went up to her. "No, one can't choose. And how can anyonegive you happiness who hasn't got it himself?" He took herhands, feeling how large, muscular and voluntary they were, evenas they melted in his palms. 　　"My poor Coral, of what use can I ever be to you? What you needis to be loved."She drew back and gave him one of her straight strong glances: 　　"No," she said gallantly, "but just to love." Chapter 25     IN the persistent drizzle of a Paris winter morning Susy Lansingwalked back alone from the school at which she had justdeposited the four eldest Fulmers to the little house in Passywhere, for the last two months, she had been living with them. 　　She had on ready-made boots, an old waterproof and a last year'shat; but none of these facts disturbed her, though she took noparticular pride in them. The truth was that she was too busyto think much about them. Since she had assumed the charge ofthe Fulmer children, in the absence of both their parents inItaly, she had had to pass through such an arduousapprenticeship of motherhood that every moment of her wakinghours was packed with things to do at once, and other things toremember to do later. There were only five Fulmers; but attimes they were like an army with banners, and their power ofself-multiplication was equalled only by the manner in whichthey could dwindle, vanish, grow mute, and become as it were asingle tumbled brown head bent over a book in some corner of thehouse in which nobody would ever have thought of hunting forthem--and which, of course, were it the bonne's room in theattic, or the subterranean closet where the trunks were kept,had been singled out by them for that very reason.