“Look here!” he said. “I want to know—I’ve simply got to know—what’s the matter!”
“Nothing,” she replied.
She tried to pass, but he barred the way.
“No!” he said. “I’m going away tomorrow morning, and I’ve got to know. Have I offended you, or done anything you don’t like? The first time I saw you, yesterday afternoon—what has made you change?”
She did not answer, but her averted face was eloquent enough.
“Look here!” he said. “If I thought it was simply that you disliked me—” He paused for a moment. “But I don’t think that,” he went on. “You did like me, at first. I’ve been thinking—Is it on account of Ser—of Mrs. Page?”
“What?” she cried, appalled.
“Because, you know”—she noticed that he glanced up and down the softly lit hall before he continued—“if it’s that, I give you my word there’s nothing in it—absolutely nothing! I’ve never even pretended to her—”
“Do you think I’m going to discuss that with you?” she said, looking at him with a sort of horror.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” he answered. “I wanted you to know that; but then—”