"You will be angry—you will be very angry, I am afraid," she said.
"But—but I can't help it."
"Angry! What do you mean?"
There was a moment's silence, then:
"Well," said Kettering rather curtly.
She flushed, but her eyes did not fall.
"Mr. Kettering, if you are a gentleman, and I know you are, you will never come here again," she said urgently.
A little wave of crimson surged under Kettering's brown skin, but his eyes did not fall; there was a short silence, then he laughed—rather mirthlessly.
"And if I am not the gentleman you so very kindly seem to believe me," he said constrainedly.
Gladys Leighton came a little closer to him; she laid her hand on his arm.
"You don't mean that; you're only saying it because—because——" She broke off with an impatient gesture. "Oh!" she said exasperatedly, "what is the use of loving a person if you do not want them to be happy—if you cannot sacrifice yourself a little for them."