"Because—because I think perhaps I should not marry Cliff, feeling as I do to John!" Martie said desperately.
She had not quite meant it when she said it: her sick heart was merely trying to reach Sally's concern, it frightened her now to feel that it was almost true.
"WHAT!" Sally whispered.
She was roused now: too much roused. Martie began hastily to reassure Sally, and herself, too.
"Oh, I will, Sally. Of course I will. And nobody will ever know this except you and me!"
"Martie, dear, he DOES care then?"
"Oh, yes, he cares!"
"But, Mart—that's terrible!"
Martie laughed ruefully.
"It's miserable!" she agreed, her eyes watering even while she smiled.