“I need no such bidding to persevere.”
“And for that very reason, because you are capable of such things, I love you only the more.”
There was triumph in her look, though she endeavoured to disguise it.
“Then, for your own peace,” she said, “I must hope that you will avoid me. It is so easily done. We have nothing in common, Mr. Barfoot.”
“I can’t agree with that. For one thing, there are perhaps not half a dozen women living with whom I could talk as I have talked with you. It isn’t likely that I shall ever meet one. Am I to make my bow, and abandon in resignation the one chance of perfecting my life?”
“You don’t know me. We differ profoundly on a thousand essential points.”
“You think so because you have a very wrong idea of me.”
Rhoda glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.
“Mr. Barfoot,” she said in a changed voice, “you will forgive me if I remind you that it is past ten o’clock.”
He sighed and rose.