"So far you have been kind to me," he persisted.
"Up to a certain point. Beyond that, I warn you, I should have no pity. If you were a wise man, I think even now that you would thank me for my luncheon and take my hand and bid me farewell."
"Instead of which," he answered, smiling, "I am waiting only to know when you will do me the honor to come and dine with me?"
She shook her head.
"I will make no appointment," she said. "Send me your telephone number directly you move into your rooms. If I am weary of myself I may call for you, but I tell you frankly that you must not expect it. If I see a way of making use of you, that will be different."
"May I come and see you again?" he begged. "You are dismissing me rather abruptly."
She shrugged her shoulders. She was looking weary, as though the heat of the day had tried her.
"I care very little, after all," she answered, "whether I ever see you again. I wish I could care, although if I did the result would be the same."
"You asked me a question a short time ago," he remarked. "Let me ask you the same. Have you never cared for any one?"
"I cared once for my husband."