"What, what?" he asked. He sprang to his feet and seized her arm.
"I didn't hear everything," she continued, backing away from him. "But you told her a secret. You alluded to something which had happened to you long ago. And she accused you of being too cordial—too— Oh, I know what she meant. What you said to her and what she said to you gave me my headache. But it was not really headache; it was heartache. I won't talk to you any longer now. Good-night."
He caught her hand as she was leaving the room.
"In spite of these painful words on both sides," he said, "may not our old friendship continue?" He looked full at her. She did not speak for a moment; then she said,—
"When do you sail?"
"Saturday week."
She began to count the days on her fingers; then with a broken-hearted smile she left the room.