So I just contented myself with looking up smilingly, but it was hard—awfully, awfully hard, dash it—and I just felt like a jolly cad—or fool. Couldn't tell which.
CHAPTER VII
CONFIDENCES
This beautiful creature had proposed to me!
By Jove, that's what it amounted to practically; and now, as she said, it was up to me. Yet I couldn't say a word!
"Well, what must I do about the other one?" she insisted.
The question reminded me of the entanglement to which her frank simplicity had confessed. And she expected me, of all others, to tell her what to do! I looked up into the radiant, crimsoned face as she bent forward slightly, her lips parted, her eyes eager—expectant. She was hanging upon my reply.
I coughed slightly. "That question is hardly fair, you know," I said meaningly. "You see, it hits me rather personally."
"Oh!" she said.