are concerned--not any question of pride nor of any silly
misunderstandings, nor of any uncle's wishes, nor of anything but just
you, Peggy. It's just you that I care for now--just you."
"Ah!" Margaret cried, with a swift intake of the breath that was
almost a sob. He had dared, after all; oh, it was shameless, sordid!
And yet (she thought dimly), how dear that little quiver in his voice
had been were it unplanned!--and how she could have loved this big,
eager boy were he not the hypocrite she knew him!
She'd
show him! But somehow--though it was manifestly what he