"Thank you, I've had all I wanted."
He made no reply. He perceived easily that something vexed her, but he could not understand her annoyance. He had been desirous of being near Patty, but, deeply occupied, had not been unhappy away from her. Desire and hope will make a man happy, though separated from the object of his passion, where a woman will pine painfully for his presence. A man may be, for a time, content with love; while woman is happy only with the lover.
Tom Putnam did not doubt that Patty loved him; and he was unable to understand why the knowledge of his love did not make her content, as this assurance did him. He was too old and too stable to follow the changes of her mental atmosphere, or to appreciate the hungry longing which made her desire to annihilate her being in his, to have him utterly her own. His love was as yet half impersonal, almost dormant from the effect of long years of self-repression. A man, too, must learn those secrets of affection which the other sex know by instinct; and, if the knowledge be not gained before the flush of youth is passed, even a passionate nature may prove a slow pupil.
The two friends walked on without speaking for several moments, until, for Patty, the silence became intolerable.
"You have been too much taken up with your own affairs, I suppose," she said, "to trouble yourself about grandmother's pension."
"No," he answered. "I was coming to see about that this afternoon."
"Then it wasn't to see me at all," she returned.
"Come," he said, smiling. "That is better. You really do care, then, whether I come to see you, or not."
"I do not care a straw," she retorted, vexed more and more, both with herself and him. "Only I do not like to have people sail under false colors."
"I don't see the application."