"Don't be afraid to tell me, Mr. Bayard. I can stand it; you can't hide it."
He looked at her, until he made sure that she was not speculating, that she was certain that he brought her bad news.
"Yesterday, while I was here, your husband ransacked my house an' found a quart of whiskey I had...."
"Oh! After he sent you away, making you feel..."
"You know him right well, ma'am," he interrupted. "Yes, I guess all his show of bein' himself in th' mornin' was to get me to move out so he could look for th' booze. He knew it was there; he'd been waitin' this chance, I expect."
"How awful! What a way to treat you."
He smiled. "Don't mind me, ma'am; I'm thinkin' about you."
She looked back at him bravely.
"And the other day ... when you left, you tried to make me stop thinking these kind things about you," she challenged. "You suggested that your interest in Ned and in me might not be fine."
It did not occur to either of them that at such a moment, under those conditions which they told themselves prevailed, talk and thought of their own special relations was out of place.