"But it wasn't, I'm sorry to say. Neither he nor your brother would take my word, and when I started to give my reasons—something it would have been very painful for me to do—your father refused to listen, and declared the acquaintance between our families at an end."
"Oh!"
"It hurt me in a way I can't tell you, and now, even this talk with you is off-side play. Miss Milbrey!"
"Mr. Bines!"
"I wouldn't have said what I did to your father and brother without good reason."
"I am sure of that, Mr. Bines."
"Without reasons I was sure of, you know, so there could be no chance of any mistake."
"Your word is enough for me, Mr. Bines."
"Miss Milbrey—you and I—there's always been something between us—something different from what is between most people. We've never talked straight out since I came to New York—I'll be sorry, perhaps, for saying as much as I am saying, after awhile—but we may not talk again at all—I'm afraid you may misunderstand me—but I must say it—I should like to go away knowing you would have no friendship,—no intimacy whatever with that woman."
"I promise you I shall not, Mr. Bines; they can row if they like."