“But he didn’t know it at first. He didn’t find out until he had known her a long time.”
“That makes it all the worse,” exclaimed Clare with conviction, but without logic.
“And while he was trying to find out, she fell in love with him,” continued Brook. “That was unlucky, but it wasn’t his fault, you know —”
“Oh yes, it was—in that book at least. He asked her to marry him before he had half made up his mind. Really, Mr. Johnstone,” she continued, almost losing her temper, “you defend the man almost as though you were defending yourself!”
“That’s rather a hard thing to say to a man, isn’t it?”
Johnstone was young enough to be annoyed, though he was amused.
“Then why do you defend the man?” asked Clare, standing still at a turn of the road and facing him.
“I won’t, if we are going to quarrel about a ridiculous book,” he answered, looking at her. “My opinion’s not worth enough for that.”
“If you have an opinion at all, it’s worth fighting for.”
“I don’t want to fight, and I won’t fight with you,” he answered, beginning to laugh.