“No, no, please don't say that. It can't be—it really can't be. I—I don't love you—that way, Bertram.”
The man paled a little.
“Billy—forgive me for asking, but it's so much to me—is it that there is—some one else?” His voice shook.
“No, no, indeed! There is no one.”
“It's not—Calderwell?”
Billy's forehead grew pink. She laughed nervously.
“No, no, never!”
“But there are others, so many others!”
“Nonsense, Bertram; there's no one—no one, I assure you!”
“It's not William, of course, nor Cyril. Cyril hates women.”