“And you’re glad of that!” she accused me.
“I’m not glad!” I denied. “I’d do anything to free him.”
“You wouldn’t shove the queer with me!” she retorted.
“Didn’t I do it—just about?”
“But you didn’t want to. You didn’t like it!”
“I never liked anything so much as that trip on the train, except when I had you later.”
“Well, that’s over now!” she said.
“I guess not. You and I have just started!”
“We’ve not....”
That’s how we argued in that cab. I was wild about her; she did love me; and after a while I made her remember it. Naturally we had quite a time; we’d just been under rather a strain together.