Her answer was a long time in coming. What she had to do was so hard.
“Father doesn’t like you,” she said at last in desperation.
Tresler put his pipe aside.
“It doesn’t seem to me he likes anybody very much, unless it’s Jake. And I wouldn’t bet a pile on the affection between them.”
“He likes Jake better than anybody else. At least he trusts him.”
“Which is a fair equivalent in his case. But what makes you think he dislikes me more than most people?”
“You remember that night in the kitchen, when you asked me to——”
“Marry? Yes. Could I ever forget it?”
Tresler had taken possession of one of the small hands lying in the girl’s lap, but she gently withdrew it.