Thomas looks up, feeling a flutter in him he thought he would need to hide away again. "I suppose we don't," he answers, a bit breathless. "But one can choose whether or not to act on those feelings."

Perhaps he ought not have said that, but he would never want her to feel-- to feel obliged. He cares for her - loves her - enough that he wants her to be happy, whatever that means. He can hope, of course.

"I'd forgotten what hope felt like before meeting you, Edith."