"It wasn't the car I wanted."
Crane began at once to feel guilty, the form of egotism hardest to eradicate from the human heart.
"I'm sorry if I seemed rude, my dear Cora. I thought you were settled and content with Lefferts. I did not suppose any one would notice—"
"Your absence? Oh, Burt!"
He became aware of a suppressed excitement, an imminent outburst of some sort. A sudden terror swept over him, terror of the future, of the deed he was about to do, terror even of this strange and utterly unknown woman whom he was about to make a part of his daily life, as long as days existed. For a second he had an illusion that he had never seen, never spoken to her before, and as he struggled against this queer abnormality, he heard that in set, clear and not ill-chosen terms he was asking her to marry him.
She clasped her hands together.
"Oh, it's just what I was trying to prevent."
"To prevent?"
"Burt, I've treated you so badly."
He looked at her without expression.