She kept her head down, but replied with a trace of drollery in her tone:
"It wasn't a question. And there isn't any answer."
"I'll make it a question then."
She looked quickly up into my face.
"It wouldn't do any good if you did. Anybody can ask questions, but it takes a very wise person to answer them."
"But," I pleaded, looking into her eyes till she cast them down once more, "it means everything to me, and--"
"I know all that you would say," she interrupted. "But how can I think of such a thing when I have so much that must be done--so many uncertainties to face?"
She laid her hand appealingly on my arm, and looked up into my face again. Then she continued:
"My uncle is perhaps dying. I don't have to tell you how all his affairs are in confusion. And you are the friend I have most to look to for help and counsel. You won't take my chiefest reliance away from me, will you?"
Her appealing look and tone were too much for me. It was a very quiet place on a very quiet street, and the dusk had fallen almost to darkness; so I yielded to the impulse and stopped and kissed her. She did not resist, but drew a quick breath that was almost a gasp, and lowered her eyes. Then she said quietly: