'I don't understand,' he objected mendaciously—'not a little bit.'
'I think you must,' she said, with her candid air. 'Though I had made up my mind that I wouldn't be afraid of you any more since our week-end at Ulland.'
'Ah, that's better!'
There was nothing in the words, but in the gentleness with which he brought them out, so much that the girl turned her eyes away and played with the handle of her parasol.
'Have you been reading any more poetry?' he said.
'No.'
'No? Why not?'
She shook her head. 'It doesn't sound the same.'
'What! I spoilt it for you?'
She laughed, and again she shook her head, but with something shy, half-frightened in her look. Nervously she dashed at a diversion.