"I do. I am what I wrote you."
"Partly perhaps—partly a rather frightened girl, still quivering from a sequence of blows——"
"Remembering all the other blows that have marked almost every year of my life!—But those would not count—if I were not selfish, dishonest, and a coward."
His hand closed slightly over hers; for a moment or two the pressure left her restless, ill at ease; but she made no movement. And gradually the contact stirred something within her to vague response. A strange sense of rest subtly invaded her; and she remained silent and motionless, looking down at the still lake below.
"What is the barrier?" he asked quietly.
"There is no barrier to your friendship—if you care to offer it, now that you know me."
"But I don't know you. And I care for more than your friendship even after the glimpse I have had of you."
"I—care only for friendship, Mr. Quarren."
"Could you ever care for more?"
"No.... I don't wish to.... There is nothing higher."