"You seem to have been awfully solicitous on my account," said Marise.
"It was on Jack's account really," explained Zélie.
"I didn't want his apple-cart to be upset—no matter what I thought of the apples. I didn't care a hang for them personally."
Marise laughed. "The apples were me."
"That's it. Pretty, good-smelling apples, with pink cheeks and satin skin. But at heart—r-o-t-t-e-n!"
"Thanks!" choked Marise, and got up. "Thank you for all your frankness. I could return some of it, but you've been ill, and I don't like being rude. I must just say one thing, however, before I go. You've given yourself away dreadfully."
Zélie stumbled to her feet. "How?"
"By showing me exactly what your feeling is for Major Garth."
"I'm his pal from the beginning to the end."
Marise ignored the evasion. "You needn't be afraid that I'll be cad enough to go and tell him what I think about you. He probably knows your feelings and returns them, but——"