“What was it?” he said.
“I hardly feel I can tell you,” she said.
“Then don’t, if you would rather not. But I should be glad to know.”
“Would you? I told Beryl the reason.”
She felt forced to say that, forced to speak that bit of truth.
“Then, if so, cannot you tell me?”
“I said—I said I could tell you because I knew you were fond of me.”
“Ah—that was it!”
He was silent. At last he said:
“I should like to ask you a question. May I?”