"I am your oldest friend, Miss Baird, now that poor Horran is dead."
Clarice lifted her eyebrows. "Still I fail to see that being an old friend gives you the right to cross-examine me about things which do not concern you."
"It concerns me a great deal that you should be happy," said Jerce, disconcerted by her calmness.
"Then you can set your mind at rest, doctor. I am happy."
Jerce looked down at his neat boots. "I should have thought that a girl of your strong character would have chosen otherwise."
"Really," said Clarice, indifferently.
"In fact," stammered Jerce, flushing, "I thought of offering myself as your husband."
"Oh, I saw that long ago, doctor."
"And you had no pity upon me?"
"Why should I have pity?" asked Clarice, with a perceptible smile. "I have not played the coquette with you."