"Did you, Ronald?"
"Yes—but oh, Cleone, you don't love the fellow, do you?"
"I think I—hate him, Ronald."
"Then you won't m-meet him again?"
"No, Ronald."
"And you'll try to be a little kinder—to C-Chichester?" Cleone shivered and rose to her feet.
"Come!" said she, her hands once more clasped upon her bosom, "it grows late, I must go."
"Yes. D-devilish depressing place this! G-give me your arm, Clo."
But as they turned to go, the bushes parted, and Barnabas appeared.
"Cleone!" he exclaimed.
"I—I'm going home!" she said, not looking at him.