“Oh no! Indeed I don’t. Libel means saying things against people, doesn’t it? I haven’t done that—”
“Indeed you have! I mean, I beg your pardon for contradicting you like that—”
“Rather flatly,” observed Clare, as they turned in their walk, and their eyes met.
“Well, I’m sorry, but since we are talking about it, I’ve got to say what I think. After all, I’m the person attacked. I have a right to defend myself.”
“I haven’t attacked you,” answered the young girl, gravely.
“I won’t be rude, if I can help it,” said Brook, half roughly. “But I asked you if you disliked me for something I had done or said, and you couldn’t deny it. That means that I have done or said something bad enough to make you say that you will never be my friend—and that must be something very bad indeed.”
“Then you think I’m not squeamish? It would have to be something very, very bad.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. Well, I thought it very bad. Anybody would, I should fancy.”
“I never did anything very, very bad, so you must be mistaken,” answered Johnstone, exasperated.