“So you’re not going to speak to us?”
“No, not that.... I’m going away to-morrow morning.”
“No! No! Don’t! I couldn’t bear to think you were driven away like that! Please don’t go!”
“I must. I’ve told Mrs. Dewey already. I—the whole thing has made me—sick. I’ve got to go!”
Andrée stopped short.
“Very well!” she said. “If that’s all you care....”
“It has nothing to do with—caring.”
“If you valued our friendship—as I do—”
“You don’t!” he cried. “You don’t! You can’t! You don’t know me.... I’m just a sort of—of freak—to amuse you on your holiday.”
“Look here!” said Andrée, sternly. “What makes you think that? You’re the last person in the world I’d have expected to be—silly and sensitive and imagining things like that. Can’t you see that Edna and I like you?”