“The amiable, reasonable Gordon. He takes it very hard.”
“Do you mean about me?” asked Angela.
“It ‘s not with you he ‘s furious, of course; it is with me. He won’t let me off easily.”
Angela looked for a moment at the fire.
“I am very sorry for him,” she said, at last.
“It seems to me I am the one to be pitied,” said Bernard; “and I don’t see what compassion you, of all people in the world, owe him.”
Angela again rested her eyes on the fire; then presently, looking up—
“He liked me very much,” she remarked.
“All the more shame to him!” cried Bernard.
“What do you mean?” asked the girl, with her beautiful stare.