“I suppose I—I must,” she stammered.
“I hear—” he began painfully, “that it’s true that you’re going to marry Mr. Van Duyn.”
“And what if it is?” she flashed at him.
“Nothing—except that I hope you’ll be happy. I wish you——”
“Thanks,” dryly. “When I’m ready for the good wishes—of—of anybody, I’ll ask for them. At present—will you let me pass, please?”
“Yes—in a moment. I thought perhaps you might be willing to tell me whether it’s true, the report of your engagement?”
“I can’t see how that can be any interest of yours.”
“Only the interest of one you once cared for and who——”
“Mr. Gallatin, I forbid it,” she said hurriedly. “Would you be so unmanly as to take advantage of your position here? Isn’t it enough that I no longer care to know you, that I prefer to choose my own friends?”