“Yes, you are—I’m serious—don’t you think you are?”
“Amusing?”
“Yes.”
“I never thought so.”
“Well, you are—and I’m sure you are—kind too!”
“Are you, why?” Unconsciously, perhaps, Marcus put on the kindest face in the world—an absurd face it was, but Rose was looking the other way.
“You look it,” she said softly.
Marcus said she had said he looked so many things, amongst them a widower.
“Oh, I am so glad you are not that.” The tragic eyes were turned upon him—they were positively wells of deep thankfulness.
“Why?” He was terrified—yet, fascinated, he must know why.