She did not answer.
“Don't you?” he repeated. “Look at me! Can't you care, Mary?”
She was silent. But when he took a step toward her she raised her hands in protest.
“Please don't!” she pleaded. “No, you mustn't—we mustn't think—Oh, no, it is impossible!”
“It isn't impossible. If you love me as I do you it is the only possible thing in the world. Listen, dear—”
“Hush! I mustn't listen. Be sensible, Crawford! think! We are both so young. You are only beginning your studies. It will be years before you can—before you should consider marrying.”
“But we can wait. I am willing to wait if you will only promise to wait for me. I'll work—HOW I'll work!—and—”
“I know, but we both have others besides ourselves to consider. I have my uncles. They have done everything for me. And you have your father. Does he know—about me—about what you have just said to me?”
And now Crawford hesitated. Not long, but long enough for Mary to know what the answer would be before it was spoken.
“He doesn't know,” she said. “I thought not. Do you think he will approve?”