And all at once Richard became serious.
"Will that please you?" he asked.
"Perhaps."
"I don't think so. I don't think it will please you, really."
"What do you mean?"
"You're too good a sort to enjoy spreading rotten fables about people who are in love with one another."
She echoed the words "too good a sort" rather faintly.
"Yes. I suppose you—you're jealous or something—angry because my feelings have changed. I understand that—it's natural, and I don't defend myself, you know. It's natural you should want to hurt me, but aren't you choosing rather a rotten way of doing it, 'cos you're hurting an innocent girl into the bargain. It's way down below your form to side up with these men who are against me—isn't it, now? As a friend, I'd drop out of this deal—clean out—it—it's not up to your standard."
"Why do you say this to me?"
"Because I like you too well to associate you with——"