"I told her I could not. And she hasn't any heart to break."
"I wonder if you'd mind," Drusilla ventured, "telling me what's the matter."
"A rather squalid story," but he told it. "She wanted to marry the General."
"Poor thing."
He glanced at her in surprise. "Then you defend her?"
"Oh, no—no. But think of having to marry to get the—the fleshpots, and to miss all of the real meanings. I talked to Hilda for a long time, and somehow before she left she made me feel sorry. She wants so much that she will never have. And she will grow hard and bitter because life isn't giving her all that she demands."
"Did she ask you to plead her cause?"
"Yes," frankly. "She feels that you ought to give her another chance."
He ran his fingers through his crinkled hair. "I don't want her. I'm afraid of her."
"Afraid?"