"I say I fool," she repeated. "That not easy to say."
Still he had no answer.
"Why you so hard to me?" she demanded rebelliously. "Can't you see in my heart? There is nothing but good in there for you. I want you be good to me. I want you come wit' me so bad. So I act foolish."
Her simplicity surprised and suddenly softened him. Alone with her, and in the all-concealing dusk, his queasy pride was not obliged to take up arms. In return he was as simple and direct as she.
"Oh! I'm sorry, too," he said in an uncertain voice—and regretfully. "If you're like that—if you're on the square. Something might have come of it. But you've spoiled it. You've put me on my guard against you for ever. A man has his pride. A man has to choose. He can't submit to a woman. You wouldn't want a tame man. I'm sorry!"
They stood looking at each other with an odd wistfulness.
"Go back to your own fire," Bela said in a muffled voice.