“I remember.” He looked at her, ashamed and sorry that he had had no active part in this charming fruition. Or, rather, it was as yet merely a delicate promise with blossoms still chastely folded. No flower yet.
“It’s plain enough,” he said, “that you’ve never lost a moment in self-improvement since you went away nearly a year ago.”
“Being with Betsy taught me so much. And Frank Donnell is so wise and gentle.... But you began it all——”
“Began what?” he demanded.
“I told you that you were the first man of your kind I had ever met. That night—in the Park—it was just exactly as though I had gone to sleep deaf, dumb, and blind, and waked up possessed of every faculty——”
“You’re loyal to the point of obstinacy,” he interrupted. “You owe absolutely nothing to me. All I did was to fail you——”
“Please don’t say that, Mr. Annan; you—annoy me when you do——”
“I didn’t believe in you. I deserted you——”
“Please—you hurt me—when you speak that way——”
“I didn’t even continue to write——”