I love you, Eliza,' I said. She thought about it. 'No,' she said at last, 'I don't like it.' 'Why not?' I said. 'It's as though you were pointing a gun at my head,' she said. 'It's just a way of getting somebody to say something they probably don't mean. What else can I say, or anybody say, but, 'I love you, too'?