"Then what on earth," demanded John, "did you go and do a silly thing like getting engaged to Hugo for?"
He spoke a little severely, for in some mysterious fashion all the awe with which this girl had inspired him for so many years had left him. His inferiority complex had gone completely. And it was due, he gathered, purely and solely to the fact that he was holding her in his arms and kissing her. At any moment during the last half-dozen years this childishly simple remedy had been at his disposal and he had not availed himself of it. He was astonished at his remissness, and his feeling of gratitude, toward that Ancestor of his in the baggy bearskin who had pointed out the way, became warmer than ever.
"But I thought you didn't care a bit for me," wailed Pat.
John stared.
"Who, me?"
"Yes."
"Didn't care for you?"
"Yes."
"You thought I didn't care for you?"
"Well, you had promised to take me to Wenlock Edge and you never turned up and I found you had gone out in your car with that Molloy girl. Naturally I thought...."