She looked at him again, long and wistfully.
“As if you did not know,” she said.
“Know? How should I know?”
“Then I’ll tell you,” she cried quickly.
“No, no; confide in some lady friend.”
“Robert,” she said, in a low, husky voice, and her whole manner changed, her eyes flashed and the lines about her lips grew hard. “What have I done that you should treat me like this?”
“Done? Nothing.”
“Then why have you turned so cold and hard to me?”
“I am the same to you to-day that I have always been.”
“It is not true,” she whispered, with her voice full of intensity of feeling, “you left no stone unturned to make me believe you cared for me.”