[CHAPTER VI]
The two women went upstairs; Bert lit a cigarette, and retired to smoke in the tiny yard behind the house. Soon he heard footsteps descending, and hastily throwing away his cigarette he entered the little room again just as Julie came into it. She had been quicker than her mother.
Bert did not waste time in preambles. He knew he only had a few minutes at the best.
“Joolie,” he began hurriedly, “why do you never let me see you alone? Will you never be any nicer to me?”
“Aren’t I nice to you, Bertie? I don’t mean not to be.”
“You know quite well what I mean. I want you to like me better. Oh, Joolie, you haven’t a notion how fond I am of you. It seemed to come over me all of a sudden that day we walked in the Park, when your mother for once didn’t come with us. And since then I haven’t had a moment’s peace. Not a single solitary moment. Wherever I look, whether it’s going to the office, or at my work, or after it’s done, I seem to see nothing but you, Joolie, and I don’t want to see anything else either.”
He moved closer to her and she retreated instinctively.
“Don’t be afraid! I won’t touch you,” he said with a certain bitterness. “I know you can’t bear the sight of me, but I’d give my life to make you happy.”