"I don't know," she said. "I can't help thinking of it sometimes. I suppose it is terribly wicked to keep anything back like that, isn't it?"
"If you feel that," I answered, "you had better go and tell your father everything."
She looked at me quickly.
"Now you're cross," she exclaimed. "I'm sure I don't know why."
"I am not cross," I said, "but I do not wish you to feel unhappy about it."
"I don't mind that," she answered, lifting her eyes to mine, "if it is better for you."
The door opened and Mr. Moyat appeared. Blanche was obviously annoyed,
I was correspondingly relieved. I rose at once, and took my leave.
"Blanche got you to change your mind?" he said, looking at me closely.
"Miss Moyat hasn't tried," I answered, shaking him by the hand. "We were talking about something else."
Blanche pushed past her father and came to let me out. We stood for a moment at the open door. She pointed down the street.