"I thought you saw then. And afterward—don't you remember how you followed me out of the room—another night?"
"Yes."
"I thought you understood, and were too shy to say so. But you didn't. Then—do you remember how I waited for you at the end of the garden?—and how we sat out on the Cliff? I was trying then—the way I always try. I thought I'd make you—and you—you wouldn't see it. You only wanted to help me. You were so innocent and dear. That's what made me love you."
"Oh," he groaned. "Don't."
But she went on. "And do you remember how you found me—that night—out on the Cliff?"
She drew back her voice softly.
"I was sure then that you knew, and that when you asked me to come back with you——"
"Look here, Kitty, I've had enough of it."
"You haven't, for you're fond of me still. You are, aren't you?"
"Oh, my God! how do I know?"