“I liked your father at first sight,” said he, simply. “But where does all this leave us?” He spoke in a light tone of amusement that he was far from feeling. “Our position is––odd.”
“It is,” she assented so earnestly that he began to laugh.
“You mustn’t allow it to disturb you. I’m really presuming upon your kindness of heart and innocence in enjoying your company now. Acquaintance with 94 me is a rather serious matter here in San Mateo and carries consequences. You don’t think for an instant that I’d allow my personal pleasure––and pleasure it is to be with you, needless to say––to bring you into ill-favor among your friends and to make you the subject of gossip. I appreciate your good spirit towards me; and I admire you greatly. But it will be well if I admire you at a distance hereafter.”
“I don’t see whose business it is except mine.”
To Steele Weir it was like pushing aside the only thing that brightened his hard, toilsome existence thus to abjure future companionship with her.
“Good heavens, do you fancy that comes easy for me to say?” he exclaimed, drawing a deep breath. “I never before knew any one who––well, I’ll stop there.”
“Who what?” she demanded.
“I nearly overstepped the bounds.”
“Oh, that’s it.”
What imp of perversity was in the girl? Weir stared at her for a moment through the gloom.