"Yes, because you never could guess," said I.
"Is it—anything about van Buren?"
My face felt as if it was on fire. "Why, what should it be?" I asked.
"It might be, for instance, that you're sorry for him because he's engaged to a brute of a girl who's sure to make him miserable. You've got such a tender heart."
"You're partly right," I confessed. "Not that he's been complaining. He wouldn't do such a thing."
"No, of course not," said Mr. Starr.
"It's wonderful how that should have come into your mind," I said. "Please don't think me stupid to cry, but suddenly it came over me—such agonizing pity for him. I can't think he loves her."
"I'm sure he doesn't. I always wondered how he could, but to-night I saw that his engagement was making him wretched."
"You saw that?"
"Yes."