“Love! I love you!”
“In that tone of voice?”
She found herself off the bed and on the floor, in his arms. “Damn you,” he whispered, “I love you.”
She stared up at him. “Mac―”
“I love you...”
“Mac, let go of me!” She wriggled out of his arms and jumped to her feet. “I suppose,” she cried, “that’s the reason you hired him! Because you love me, or― or something like that. Mac, what’s the reason? I’ve got to know!”
“Is that all you have to say to a guy who tells you he loves you?”
“The reason, Mac.”
Young Macgowan rolled over on his back and belched smoke. Out of the reek his voice mumbled something ineffectual. Then it stopped. When the smoke cleared, he was lying there with his eyes shut.
“You won’t tell me.”