“Let me go, Auntie dear,” and I loosed her hand from my wrist and went after him; for of course the instant the words were out of my mouth I was ashamed of myself. I couldn’t think what had possessed me. I was badly ashamed of myself.
I came to him and said—
“Mr. Rehan—I don’t mean to be rude. Great-aunt—she doesn’t understand. She made me talk. It wasn’t rudeness; but you stood there, and I knew—I thought I knew, what you must think, must be thinking—” (but ‘feeling’ was the word I meant) “and I was sorry. I was angry because I was sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
He said—
“It’s all right. I didn’t think you rude.”
Then I said—
“But I meant it. Why do you stay? What good can it do you? Why don’t you go away from it all?”
And he—
“Where is there to go? I’ve been tramping all day.”
“Where?”