"He is too good to me; you must not think that," exclaims she, earnestly. "It is only—that I don't care about his goodness—I don't care," desperately, "for anything connected with him."
"You have made a second mistake, then?"
"Not a second," in a very low tone.
"Then let us say, you have again changed your mind?"
"No."
"You liked him once?" impatiently.
"No."
"You might as well say you did like me," says Roger, with angry warmth; "and I know I was actually abhorrent in your sight."
"Oh, no, no," says Dulce for the third time, in a tone so low now that he can hardly hear it; yet he does.
"Dulce! do you know what you are implying?" asks he, in deep agitation. "It is one of two things now: either that you never liked Stephen, and always lov—liked me, or else you are trying to make a fool of me for the second time. Which is it?"