"He has no reason."
"Reason! O, people are jealous without reason; they don't wait for that. Better without than with. How is Mr. Masters? is he one of that kind? And how came he to marry you?"
"You ought not to wonder at it, with the opinion you have expressed of me."
"O no, I don't wonder at all! But somebody else wanted to marry you too; and somebody else thought he had the best right. I am afraid you flirted with him. Or was it with Mr. Masters you flirted? I didn't think you were a girl to flirt; but I see! You would keep just quietly still, and they would flutter round you, like moths round a candle, and it would be their own fault if they both got burned. Has Mr. Masters got burned? My poor moth has singed his wings badly, I can tell you. I am very sorry for him."
"So am I," Diana said gravely.
"Are you? Are you really? Are you sorry for him? May I tell him you are sorry?"
"You have not said whom you are talking about," Diana answered, with a coldness which she wondered at when she said it.
"O, but you know! There is only one person I could be talking about. There is only one I could care enough about to be talking for him. You cannot help but know. May I tell him you say you are sorry for him? It would be a sort of comfort, and he wants it."
"You must ask Mr. Masters."
"What?"