"You don't care for me—I've made a fool of myself. Is that it?"
She laid her gloved hand gently on his hand.
"I do care for you."
"Then why is it impossible?" he demanded fiercely. He put his arm around her and tried to draw her to him.
Quietly, but firmly, she disengaged herself, and it was with some show of dignity that she replied:
"Because I care for you—just because of that."
"You are not free?" he demanded.
She hesitated.
"It is not that—there is another reason."
"What is it?"