"Whenever you want to go, I am willing to arrange things for you—so that you needn't worry about money. But I feel that, as I am older than you, I ought to do all I can to keep you from making a mistake you might soon regret."
She studied him dubiously. He saw that she—naturally enough—did not believe in his disinterestedness, that she hadn't a suspicion of his change, or, rather collapse, of feeling. She said:
"If you ask it, I'll stay a while. But you must promise to—to be kind to me."
There was only gentleness in his smile. But what a depth of satirical self-mockery and amusement at her innocent young egotism it concealed! "You'll never have reason to speak of that again, my dear," said he.
"I—can—trust you?" she said.
"Absolutely," replied he. "I'll have another room opened into this suite. Would you like that?"
"If you—if you don't mind."
He stood up with sudden boyish buoyance. "Now—let's go shopping. Let's amuse ourselves."
She rose with alacrity. She eyed him uncertainly, then flung her arms round his neck and kissed him.
"You are so good to me!" she cried. "And I'm not a bit nice."