"You have been a good friend," she answered with resolute self-composure; "but only a friend after all."
"Then you mean that I cannot be more than a friend?"
She dropped her eyes, a faint flush stealing up into her pale cheeks.
"You do not wish to be; and therefore you have no right—"
He sprang up impulsively and seized both her hands in his.
"Good God, Alice," he exclaimed, "you drive me wild! You know that if I were not so cursedly poor—"
She released herself gently, and with perfect calmness.
"I know," she responded, "that you have weighed me in the balance against the trouble of earning a living, and you haven't found me worth the price. In the face of a fact like that what is the use of words?"
He thrust his empty hands into his pockets, and glowered down on her.
"You know I love you, Alice. You know I've been in love with you ever since I began to walk; and you—you—"