"Missed you?" he echoed, exactly as he had done before.
But this time Fifi said, shamelessly, "I'll bet you have!—Haven't you?"
Come, Mr. Queed, be honest. You are supposed to have the scientist's passion for veracity. You mercilessly demand the truth from others. Now take some of your own medicine. Stand out like a man. Have you or have you not missed this girl since she stopped coming?
"Yes," said the little Doctor, rather hollowly, "I ... have missed you."
Fifi's smile became simply brazen. "Do you know what, Mr. Queed? You like me lots more than you will say you do."
The young man averted his eyes. But for some time there had been in his mind the subtle consciousness of something left undone, an occasion which he had failed to meet with the final word of justice. Since he had been in the room, a vague, unwelcome resolve had been forming in his mind, and at Fifi's bold words, it hardened into final shape. He drew a deep breath.
"You referred to me as your friend once, F—Fifi. And I said that I was not."
"I know."
"I was—mistaken"—so he drained his medicine to the dregs. "I ... am your friend."
Now the child's smile was the eternal motherly. "Lor', Mr. Queed, I knew it all the time."