“Joe! Come in.”
“It's late; I'd better get home.”
The misery in his voice hurt her.
“I'll not keep you long. I want to talk to you.”
He came slowly toward her.
“Well?” he said hoarsely.
“You're not very kind to me, Joe.”
“My God!” said poor Joe. “Kind to you! Isn't the kindest thing I can do to keep out of your way?”
“Not if you are hating me all the time.”
“I don't hate you.”