“How good a friend do you count me?”
“The best I have in the world.”
“Good enough to ask anything of me—everything?”
She sat in silence, taking her hand softly away from the support of her face.
“Will you answer me?”
“There are some things that I would ask of nobody that lives.”
Glenn slightly raised his broad shoulders and lowered them with a sigh.
“I am disappointed in our friendship. It has failed.”
She reflected a moment; “I don’t deserve that from you.”
“Nor do I deserve what you have just put upon me.” It had struck him like a pang. The sweet sense of her faith—her dependence upon him—had been the very dearest emotion of his life. It strengthened him, to feel that she might lean hard upon him. He was not willing that the pressure should be lessened.