“Do you really feel that way, Molly dear?”
“Can any one feel differently about such things?”
I bent over her hand and caught it to my lips.
“That is the only right way—the natural way to think.”
“Oh, David, I do want to talk to you so much! You see, I never can, with mother: you know how it is. There’s only you, Davy. I don’t love Ted. I’m sure I never will love him, but it seems so terrible that I should lose the other—the real friendship—and yet I suppose that’s not possible—”
“Not quite fair to him.”
“No, and Ted is the only one to think about, isn’t he?”
“Ted?”
“Ted Seaver.”
“Oh, yes, the tall one, with dark hair,” I said, seeing confusedly one of the many who had passed through the house. “Why, he’s only a boy. What right had he—”