"You are trembling—May."
"Oh!" she said—and looked at me.
"It slipped out—unconsciously," I stammered. "I did not mean to be impertinent. I think of you—by that name. Is it impertinent to think——"
"No, no."
"Then you'll forgive me?"
"What is there to forgive?"
"All that the circumstance implies. Come, after all, I am not sorry for the slip. Why should I twist its meaning either, like a coward. It is only the weak who need the shelter of hypocrisy. Look straight before you—May—and do not turn your eyes. May again, you see."
"You have something to tell me," she said gravely.
"The old, old story, May," I answered with a short but reckless laugh.