"You are so fond of being serious," she murmured, interrupting in her turn.
"But I am serious now. Haven't we always been good friends enough for me to speak to you in earnest without your treating me as if I was either impertinent or a fool?"
He stopped his restless walk to stand before her again. She was silent a moment with her glance fixed on the rug. Then she raised her eyes to his, and her manner became suddenly grave.
"Yes, Jack," she said, "we have always been friends; but has any man, simply because he is a friend, a right to ask a girl a question like that?"
"You mean—"
"I mean no more than I say. There are other men with whom I've been friends all my life. Is there any one of them that you'd think had a right to come here to-night and question me about my engagement?"
"I'd break his head if he did!" Jack retorted savagely.
"Then why shouldn't he—whoever he might be—break yours?"
He flung himself into his chair again, his sunny face clouded, and his brows drawn down. He met her glance with a look which seemed to be trying to fathom the purpose of her mood.
"Why, hang it," he said; "with me it's different. You know I've always been more than a common friend."