There was a moment of absolute silence; then Mollie said in a voice that was not quite steady:
“Because—I did not think it best.”
Philip laughed.
“Perhaps the form of my request may have been the cause of your refusal,” he said; “if I had worded it differently, would you have given it to me?”
“Possibly—I cannot tell,” she gravely returned, with a far-away look in her eyes.
“If I should beg for it now, as a gift of friendship, would you bestow it?” he persisted, determined to find out how Clifford Faxon had come by it.
“No, I could not.”
“Why?”
“Because I have already given it away,” Mollie replied, a little smile flitting over her red lips as she recalled that scene at the railway-station in New Haven.