"Don't you touch me!" I snapped. "Just tell me--do you think, on the evidence of a strange man happening to glance up at my window, that I've had some flaming affair with one of my patients?" Frank got out of bed and wrapped his arms around me. I stayed stiff as Lot's wife, but he persisted, caressing my hair and rubbing my shoulders in the way he knew I liked. "No, I don't think any such thing," he said firmly. He pulled me closer, and I relaxed slightly, though not enough to put my arms around him. After a long time, he murmured into my hair, "No, I know you'd never do such a thing. I only meant to say that even if you ever did ... Claire, it would make no difference to me. I love you so. Nothing you ever did could stop my loving you." He took my face between his hands--only four inches taller than I, he could look directly into my eyes without trouble--and said softly, "Forgive me?"