Julian began to see that there was something lurking in the background behind her show of temper. He wondered what on earth it was.
"Why should I tell you lies?" he said.
"Oh! to kid me. Men like that. You're just like the rest, I suppose."
"I suppose so."
She seemed vexed at his assent, and went on:
"Now, aren't you, though?"
"I say, yes."
"Well, you usen't to be," she exclaimed, with actual bitterness of accent and of look. "That's just why I was lookin' at you,—for I was lookin',—makin' out the difference."
"I'm just the same as I was," Julian said, and he spoke with quite sincere conviction.
"No, you ain't."