She drew her fingers away slowly but with determination.
"I had hoped," she said, "that you would have spared me this."
"Spared you!" he repeated. "I do not understand. Spared you!"
She looked at him with flashing eyes.
"Oh, I suppose I ought to thank you," she said, bitterly. "Only I do not. I cannot. You were kinder when you joined with me and helped me to ignore—that hateful moment. That was much kinder."
"Upon my honour, Mary," Brooks declared, earnestly, "I do not understand you. I have not the least idea what you mean."
She looked at him incredulously.
"You have asked me to marry you," she said. "Why?"
"Because I care for you."
"Care for me? Does that mean that you—love me?"