But she shook her head almost imperceptibly.
"Why do you exclude me, Cynthia?"
But she had nothing to say about him. Long ago—long, long since, she had made excuses for all that he should have been and was not. It was not a matter for discussion; she and her heart had settled it between them without calling in Logic as umpire, and without recourse to Reason for an opinion.
"The worst of it is," he said, rising and picking up his hat, "some of your general description does fit me."
"I—did not mean it that way——"
"But it does fit, Cynthia; doesn't it?"
"No."
"What!" incredulously.
She said in a low voice: "You were very kind to me, Jack; and—not like other men. Do you think I can ever forget that?"