"Because he is one of my Dr. Fells."
"You don't like him simply because he does not talk much. That may be a good reason why you should not make of him an intimate companion,—because you like talkative people; but it should be no ground for dislike."
Phineas paused for a moment before he answered her, thinking whether or not it would be well to ask her some question which might produce from her a truth which he would not like to hear. Then he did ask it. "And do you like him?" he said.
She too paused, but only for a second. "Yes,—I think I may say that I do like him."
"No more than that?"
"Certainly no more than that;—but that I think is a great deal."
"I wonder what you would say if any one asked you whether you liked me," said Phineas, looking away from her through the window.
"Just the same;—but without the doubt, if the person who questioned me had any right to ask the question. There are not above one or two who could have such a right."
"And I was wrong, of course, to ask it about Mr. Kennedy," said Phineas, looking out into the Square.
"I did not say so."