leave phrase-making to us phrase-mongers."
Her voice rang true--true, and compassionate, and tender, and all that
a woman's voice should be. Billy could not but trust her.
"I've been an ass," said he, rather tragically. "Oh, not an unusual
ass, Kathleen--just the sort men are always making of themselves. You
see, before I went to France, there was a girl I--cared for. And I let
a quarrel come between us--a foolish, trifling, idle little quarrel,
Kathleen, that we might have made up in a half-hour. But I was too
proud, you see. No, I wasn't proud, either," Mr. Woods amended,
bitterly; "I was simply pig-headed and mulish. So I went away. And