"Impossible!" he stammered.
She dropped his hands and turned away.
"You refuse then?"
"I—I didn't say so. But I can't believe—"
"You must. I've paid you the high compliment of thinking you'd understand."
He tangled his brows in perplexity. "Yes—I'm flattered—but have you thought? I'm afoot—eating and drinking where and what I can get, sleeping where I may. It wouldn't be easy—for a girl."
"I'm not made of tender stuff—" she broke off and turned toward him with an impulsive gesture.
"If you don't want me," she cried, "tell me so. I'll believe you and go."
"No," he muttered. "I won't tell you that. But have you thought of the consequences? Of what people will think?"
"Let them think what they choose," she said.