"Did you know—the real man?"
"I had met him once, at a dance."
"Did you like him?"
"I neither liked nor disliked. He was an object of utter indifference to me."
"Then why did you—"
"Hush! You can never know. I can't tell you—"
"Then don't. Please believe I want to befriend you." The agony and fear in Vicky's voice thrilled me, and I desired only to shield and protect her. She was so young and alone.
"It is good to have a friendly voice speak to me. But you can only forget me."
"No, let me do something definite. Some errand of trust, some matter of confidence—"
"Do you mean it? Will you?"