"She's grateful for my letting her alone," said he when I tried to turn him back to his duty. "Besides, if I didn't meet you out once in a while you'd forget me entirely. And I don't want that, if I can avoid it."
"Thank you," said I, for lack of anything else to say, and with not the remotest intention of irritating him. But he flushed scarlet, and frowned.
"You always and deliberately misconstrue everything I say," said he bitterly. "I know I'm unfortunate in trying to express myself to you, but why do you never attribute to me anything but the worst intentions?"
"And why should you assume that every careless reply I make is a carefully thought out attack on you?" I retorted. "Don't you think your vanity makes you morbid?"
"You know perfectly well that it isn't vanity that makes me think you especially dislike me," said he.
"But I don't," I answered. "I confess I did at first, but not since I've come to know you better."
"Why did you dislike me at first?" he asked. "You began on me with almost the first moment of our acquaintance."
"That's true—I did," I admitted. "I had a reason for it—didn't Nadeshda tell you what it was?"
He looked frightened.
"Be frank, if you want me to be frank," said I.