"You wrote me a letter," he began, "and from it I gather that you have been thinking over what I said the other evening."
"Yes," said Gwen; "I've been so—bothered. Oh, that's the wrong word—I mean——"
"You have thought it over quietly and seriously?" said the Warden.
Gwen's eyes flickered. "Yes," she said; and then, as he seemed to expect her to say more, she added:
"I don't know whether you meant——" and here she stopped dead.
"Between us there must be absolute sincerity," he said.
Gwen felt a qualm. Did absolute sincerity mean that she would have to tell about the—the umbrella that she was going to get?
"Yes," she said, "I like sincerity; it's right, isn't it?"
He made no answer. She looked again at him wistfully.
"Suppose you tell me," he said gently, "what you yourself think of your mother's letter in which she speaks to you with affection and pride, and even regrets that she will lose you. Her letter conveys the idea that you are loved and wanted." He put emphasis on the "are."