I glanced at him with a touch of defiance.
"Then I need not speak," I answered.
"No, you need not speak, unless you give utterance to what is in your true soul," he said—"I would rather you did not play at conventions with me."
For the moment I felt almost angry.
"I do not play at conventions," I murmured.
"Oh, do you not? Is that quite candid?"
I raised my eyes and met his,—he was smiling. Some of the oppression in my soul suddenly gave way, and I spoke hurriedly in a low tone.
"Surely you know how difficult it is for me?" I said. "Things have happened so strangely,—and we are surrounded here by influences that compel conventionality. I cannot speak to you as frankly as I would under other circumstances. It is easy for YOU to be yourself;—you have gained the mastery over all lesser forces than your own. But with me it is different—perhaps when I am away I shall be able to think more calmly—"
"You are going away?" he asked, gently.
"Yes. It is better so."