Cary caught her breath quickly, turning away that he might not see her face.
"It's all my own doing," he went on. "I know it. I never was very sociable. I fancy I was born cross and horrid and crooked."
He laughed a little.
Cary turned to him and she put out her hand and for a moment it rested on his sleeve. He looked down at her upturned face, on which the moon was shining. A faint smile was folded around her mouth, hiding the pity beneath. She shook her head.
"Oh, no, you're not!" she said. "You're brave and you're strong, and some day—"
He looked into her eyes.
"Yes—and 'some day'?"
"You're going to do something fine!"
He shook his head in denial.
"I lost my chance," he said slowly.