“If you like! You will not say you have toiled years and years ungrudgingly to make everybody happy, despite your own utter misery? That you are a heroine,—an angel and what not? You will not cry and say nobody cares for you—”
“No! I won’t say that!” she interrupted, with a mischievous smile.
“You won’t?”
“No! Because it wouldn’t be true!”
“It wouldn’t be true,—it wouldn’t—”
“No! Lots of people care for me—people you don’t even know! There’s Jack—but you know him!”
“Always cropping up!” murmured the Philosopher.
“Then there’s Willie, and Claude, and Fred—and—”
“No women in the list? Are they all men?”
“Well, I like men best,” she confessed.