“Then what on earth is the matter? I ask you for a plain answer. I think I deserve so much.”
“Men are always so deserving,” she said with bitterness.
“And women are always so exacting,” he retorted. “But please answer my question.”
“I will first ask you another. If you reply frankly to me, I will reply frankly to you.”
She leaned her elbows on the table, supporting her face on the palms of her upturned hands, and looked into his eyes.
“Ask me,” said Bellairs eagerly; “I'll do anything if you'll only explain Betty to me.”
“Why did you try to make me love you? Why did you make love to me?”
Bellairs pushed back his chair and there was an awkward silence. Clarice's question was very unexpected and very difficult to answer.
“Well?” she said, still with her eyes on his.
“Is it any good our discussing this?” he replied at length. “It meant nothing to you. It is over.”