“Now,” she said, “tell me about this danger that such a girl as I must guard against.”
“There is no danger,” he said slowly.
“But they told me——”
“Let them tell you what it is, then.”
“No; you tell me?”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because—I simply can’t.”
“Are you ashamed to?”
“Perhaps—” He lifted his boxed sketching-kit by the strap, swung it, then set it carefully upon the ground: “Perhaps it is because I am ashamed to admit that there could be any danger to any woman in this world of men.”