“Mr. Ramage,” she said, “please don’t talk like this.”
He made to speak and did not.
“I don’t want you to do it, to go on talking to me. I don’t want to hear you. If I had known that you had meant to talk like this I wouldn’t have come here.”
“But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?”
“Please!” she insisted. “Please not now.”
“I MUST talk with you. I must say what I have to say!”
“But not now—not here.”
“It came,” he said. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—”
She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. She wanted to think.
“Mr. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. Will you please—Not now, or I must go.”