“What shall I tell you, Lilian?”
“Tell me that you are not a defaulter.”
“Well, I’m not, then,” I replied, with a smile, which I am sure was a very grim one.
She looked at me, and I saw her eyes fill with tears after she had gazed at me in silence for a moment. I think that my tone and my looks belied my speech, and without heeding the value of the words I used, they conveyed to her the impression that I was guilty.
“Why do you cry, Lilian?” I asked, moved by her tears.
“I don’t know. I can’t help it. I feel just as though something was going wrong,” she replied, covering her face with her handkerchief.
“Why, what do you mean, Lilian?”
“Every thing looks very strange to me.”
“What looks strange?”