“Then you really didn’t wish to meet me? I’m so sorry.”
She had turned her face slowly to his and was looking him levelly in the eyes. It was a challenge, not a petition. He met her thrust fairly.
“My dear Miss Wharton,” he smiled, “how could I know what you were like—er—if I’d never seen you?”
This time he fairly set her weapon flying.
“What I wish you to understand,” he continued, steadily, “is that I didn’t know that Barclay was taking me to you. I wish credit for a certain delicacy. I should not have cared to force myself upon you.”
“I’m sure I shouldn’t have minded in the least,” she said, lightly. “I’m not so difficult as all that.”
As soon as she had spoken she knew she had overshot her mark.
“That’s awfully good of you, you know. I’m sure you’ll admit I had no means of knowing,” he added, “how difficult you were.”
She flushed a little before returning to the attack.
“Of course a girl wishes to know a little something about a man before——”