"All he said was for me to take care of you. You perceive the irony, don't you?"
"Irony?" she repeated, looking at him.
"Why? Aren't you capable of doing it?"
"Do you need anybody to look after you?" he asked, smiling.
Slowly she lifted her eyes to his; his smile died out. Never had he looked into such a desolate face.
"What is it?" he said, astonished; "what on earth is the matter, Diana? Has anything happened?"
"Nothing—unusual—I suppose."
"You are not ill, are you?"
The tears were slowly blinding her, and she turned her head, standing so, fighting for self-mastery.
"Diana——"