“Don’t be a donkey!” she said, laughing. “It’s late. You’d better go.”
“May I come again?”
“Of course!” she answered, and almost without meaning it, smiled again, a little too nicely.
“You’re wonderful,” he cried, impulsively. “Like—”
“I know,” she interrupted, laughing. “Never mind! Good night!”
“I shouldn’t have been like that,” she reflected, when he had gone. It had been the most insignificant little conversation in the world, and yet it took on the aspect of a betrayal. She was really uneasy about it; she wandered about the room, waiting for Al, in a most unpleasant frame of mind. Certainly she hadn’t said or done anything to feel guilty about; it must have been some secret mutiny in her heart of which she was only half aware.
“Very silly of me,” she said, almost surprised. “It might help Edna.... He’s a dilatory suitor.... I can talk a lot about her, in an artful way.... If I see him again....”