His tone was light and careless, and the smile he gave her she neither understood nor liked. She was puzzled and hurt. What made him so different? What was the matter?
"Suppose we walk?" he suggested. "This isn’t a very appetizing corner to stand on. How is your mother?"
"Better," said Angelica in a surly tone.
"And you?"
"I don’t know who else there is in your household, but I hope they’re all quite well. Brothers and sisters——”
"Don’t be silly!" she said roughly.
"Angelica," he replied, "I’m not silly. I’m only trying to be decent. You’re very young, very inexperienced. It’s hard to talk to you. I hoped you’d understand without an explanation, but I don’t believe now that you can."
She could have wept with chagrin and utter bewilderment. She saw that she was being very stupid, and that she was disappointing her idol in some way, but she couldn’t in the least comprehend how.
"You see," he went on, with an air of extreme patience and gentleness, "all that—last night—it was very wrong. I blame myself severely. My ideas about such things aren’t the usual sort, by any means. I don’t parade it, but I’m a deeply religious man; and when I find myself giving way to temptation as I did last night, I’m ashamed."