“Will you sit down and talk to me for a little time, please,” she invited.
“If you wish me to,” he replied diffidently.
“I think that perhaps I was silly about the other night,” she went on. “I perhaps—misunderstood.”
“You didn’t,” he groaned.
“Please don’t say that,” she begged. “I want to believe that I did, and I want you to please be nice to me again and be different.”
“Has any one been talking to you?” he asked.
“The doctor spoke a few words,” she admitted.
“It is sweet of you,” he declared dejectedly, “but you mustn’t believe the doctor altogether. It isn’t exactly nerves. I was never much good and you’re such a child. I’m not good enough now to talk and dance with you on equal terms. I feel this all the time. For two days I have hated you because it is through you I know what I am. And I don’t mind telling you that I hate you,” he went on, “because——”
“Because?” she questioned.
“Because I care for you more than any one else in the world,” he concluded.