She met his eyes, calmly, for an appreciable duration of time. “I wish you would tell me what it is,” she went on seriously.
“Some time, perhaps, I will.”
“Why not now?”
Vane shook his head. “I will tell you when you take back the handkerchief.”
“I shall never take back the handkerchief.”
“You do not know how persistent I am. I shall ask you every week until you do.”
Miss Thomas slightly moved her shoulders. He could have fallen at her feet then and there. It was dark behind the curtain, all except her eyes, and she looked at him almost tenderly, and made no effort to end the conversation. Vane felt that he was very deeply in love with her.
“Do you really wish to know the reason why I asked you that question?” he said, hastily. “Do you ask me now?”
“Perhaps I shall ask you some time,” she said, dropping her eyes.
Vane bit his lip, and clenched his fingers, which had been dangerously near hers. At first he did not know what to reply.