“Well then, give me another cigarette.”
“No, not just now. Please!”
But after a little interlude of quiet, she protests.
“Arthur, listen. You simply must behave. I don’t feel that way; can’t you see? I like you a lot, but I just don’t feel that way. You can’t make me feel that way, either. I’m sorry. I’ll have to get mad in a minute.”
Don’t answer, but stare gloomily at the steering-wheel. She is a little worried.
“Arthur, what’s the matter? I wish you wouldn’t act that way. It makes me feel so mean. I don’t want to be mean. I just thought it would be better to tell the truth.”
Sigh and pat her hand.
“You’re perfectly right, dear. It’s just like you—honest even if you’re cruel.”
“Don’t be so silly. It isn’t cruel. I can’t help it if I can’t feel that way. I never feel that way.”
“Never?”