“How can I?” she said, simply. “Why should I promise something I can never fulfil?”
He held her glance as though loath to have it leave him.
“May I see you again?” he asked, abruptly.
She shook her head. His gaze fell, seeing no softening in her clear look.
“You are well named,” he repeated, more to himself than to her. “Constance! You are constant in your dislikes as well as your likes.”
“I have no dislike for you,” she replied. “It seems to have been left behind me somewhere.”
“Only indifference, then!” he said, dully.
“No; not indifference!”
“You do care what––may become of me?”