All that Bashford could make out at first, as he listened, was: “But I don't want to leave Daisy! I don't want to leave Daisy!”
He paced grimly back and forth, then stopped curiously to listen.
“How was I to know?—Boo—hoo,” Loretta was crying. “He didn't tell me. Nobody else ever kissed me. I never dreamed a kiss could be so terrible... until, boo-hoo... until he wrote to me. I only got the letter this morning.”
His face brightened. It seemed as though light was dawning on him.
“Is that what you're crying about?”
“N—no.”
His heart sank.
“Then what are you crying about?” he asked in a hopeless voice.
“Because you said I had to marry Billy. And I don't want to marry Billy. I don't want to leave Daisy. I don't know what I want. I wish I were dead.”
He nerved himself for another effort.