The note of urgency and dissatisfaction made her uncomfortable. "You asked me to be friends," she said.
She moved away from his hold, and he let her go. "There's all the future," he said more quietly. "You'll love me by and by.... Ann, have you really the courage to go away from all that down there?"
"Yes."
"And the wisdom to keep our friendship to yourself?... It will be a terrible thing for both of us, if they know. I met your father this morning, on his way home, and I'd have spoken to him, if he had let me. I did speak and he cut me—he has neither forgotten nor forgiven."
"What is it they've not forgotten or forgiven?" Ann asked earnestly. "Aunt Sue wouldn't tell me."
Garvin told her what he had told Baird.
Ann flamed scarlet. "There isn't any Penniman would have done that!"
"And there's not a Westmore now who thinks it," Garvin said positively. "The thing's more than half a century old, but it's an insult your people will never forgive.... It's not going to matter to you, is it, now you know?" he added, for Ann looked so perturbed. "I never have believed it for a moment—or Edward either. I know he's terribly sorry for the quarrel, and ashamed that father let the thing rankle. It worries Ed. If it worries you, I'm sorry I told you."
"It doesn't worry me," Ann said firmly. "It doesn't make the least difference to me—in the way I feel to you and Mr. Westmore—we had nothing to do with it, an' to hate an' hate is sickening. But I know how it is with my people. I think grandfather would almost kill me if he knew that we were friends. Even Aunt Sue would be fearful to me." She drew a quick nervous breath. "It makes me want to get away more than ever."
"You shall go—I'll help you," Garvin promised. "But in the meantime I want to see you—I must. If I think of a safe way, you will meet me, won't you?"