There was a touch of irony in the short laugh Phil gave.
“One can’t afford to be otherwise with one’s self,” 216 he retorted. “It is a privilege one is permitted to take.”
“It is a privilege you have no right to take and––and I am so sorry if I hurt your feelings that afternoon. I did not think for a second how you might misconstrue my behaviour, although––although I could see it all afterwards. Won’t you please understand me? I was so surprised, so taken aback,––the picture returned to me so suddenly––that I could not think properly. I just had to run out into the open and away, in order to pull myself together.”
Phil walked along by her side, up the hill, without answering.
“Won’t you believe me?” she pleaded.
“I can never forget that you were kind to me when I needed it most.”
“Then you believe me,” she reiterated, “and you will believe that I shall never, never, never tell anyone your secret?”
The moon sailed out behind the clouds, and Phil looked down and saw a pale, earnest face searching his.
“Yes!––I do believe you,” he answered. “I could not do anything else now.”
“Thanks ever so much!” Eileen smiled.