“If you cared for me,” he said, “you wouldn’t have minded my—my kissing you.”
“Yes, I should!”
Their eyes met.
“Oh, Mildred!” he cried. “Do you mean you do care?”
A panic fear seized her.
“I don’t!” she said. “No—I—it’s not fair to make me stand here and listen to you!”
He turned on his heel and walked over to the window.
“All right,” he said unsteadily. “You needn’t stay.”
She opened the door and went back into the outer office. She knew that the other girls would notice her hot color, would see that she had no dictation to transcribe, and would talk about it. She was humiliated, and it was his fault.
“I hate him!” she thought, and was shocked.