"Are you very angry?" she asked.
"No."
"Do we part—friends?"
"We do, indeed," he said so sincerely that the smile faded on her face, and into her limited mind flickered a momentary doubt. But, no, it was not possible; for Lillian had never really been able to doubt herself. Certain, once more, that this young man would appear at heel when whistled for, she returned his friendly pressure with an encouraging one, laughed, and turned lightly toward the house. He accompanied her to the door and bowed her in.
Then the strength seemed to ooze out of his back and legs; he dropped on to a marble bench, and sat there in the moonlight, his face buried in his hands.
How long he had been there he did not know, when a light touch and a soft voice close to his ear aroused him, and, looking up, he saw Diana inspecting him.
"As dejected as all that, Mr. Inwood?" she asked, as he rose to his feet.
"Not dejected, Miss Tennant."
"Why, then, these attitude? Wherefore those woe, young sir?"
"I don't know," he said listlessly.