"You were a very good friend to me!"
She had not meant that past tense as an arrow to shoot into his heart; but it sticks there, barbed.
"I do not know how."
"And friends—real, good friends—should not have concealments from each other, should they? They should tell one another about themselves?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"I have often wished—often tried to tell you about myself; but I could not. I never could! I can tell you to-day if you wish, if you care to hear. Do you care?"
"Do I care?"
What a small battlefield those three words make for the anger and agony they express to fight upon!
Another longer pause.