“We cannot do anything. She admires him around the edges, somehow. And he’s as shy of her as he can be. I seem to be always interpreting them to each other.”
He laughed, greatly amused.
“In spite of my selecting the most innocent love-stories for you, you have grown up to the depth, or height, of this. I’ll never dare put a finger in a girl’s education again.”
“But, Roger—”
“Don’t ask me to help you out.”
“Marion will not. She doesn’t seem to understand anything.”
“No wonder,” thought Roger, remembering her early experience; “she has been a burnt child; she’ll never play with that kind of fire again.”
Aloud he replied: “She needs a wise head like yours. What would you advise her to do?”
“To be natural; just her own self, and she isn’t. I believe she’s afraid.”
“So will you be when you are as old as she is.”