I looked round at him over my shoulder, and replied, reproachfully:
"I mean that you do not care for me."
"I do not care for you!"
"No; you have secrets from me; William never had any secrets; he liked me more than you do, Cornelius."
An expression of so much pain passed across his face, that I repented at once.
"You cannot believe that?" he replied at length; "you would not say it if you were not very angry with me, Daisy, and yet you know, oh! you know well enough I cannot bear your anger."
"Can't you bear it, Cornelius?" I answered turning round to face him, "then don't go; for if you do, I shall be so angry—indeed, you can have no idea of it!"
"None, whilst you speak and look so very unlike anger. Oh, Daisy! which is easier: to part from you in wrath or in peace?"
"Why part at all? why go?" I replied passing my arm within his, and looking up at his bending face in which I read signs of yielding.
"Why remain?"