"You are very kind—and all that, but friends talk openly to each other. I know nothing of you, and I do know everything you could say would be so interesting," she sighed. "For instance, why are you never really happy?"
"I have forgotten the way," he said coolly. "Perhaps I have learned too much of life and have lost interest in it. You don't laugh when you can't see the joke, do you?"
"No."
"Nor do I. I see no joke in life worth enjoying, so I have forgotten what pleasure is."
"Can't you tell me all about it?" She pleaded.
"It's an ugly story and not for your ears. But it played the devil with me for good and all," said he grimly.
"I am so sorry," she cried sincerely shocked and grieved. "I thought you must have had a bad time to look and act as you do. Poor you!" and one small hand rested for a moment on his. It was immediately captured and held close.
"Why should you care?" he asked, his expression curiously hardening.
"Because I like you so much."
"Only like?" he asked with a short, unpleasant laugh.