"Then we'll talk about his story. It gripped me—— Oh, let's have it out, Becky. He loves you and you don't love him. Why don't you?"
"I can't—tell you——"
There was silence for a moment, then Archibald Cope said gently, "Look here, girl dear, you aren't happy. Don't I know it? There's something that's awfully on your mind and heart. Can't you think of me as a sort of—father confessor—and let me—help——?"
She clasped her hands tensely on her knees; the knuckles showed white. "Nobody can help."
"Is it as bad as that?"
"Yes." She looked away from him. "There is somebody else—not Randy. Somebody that I shouldn't think about. But I—do——"
She was dry-eyed. But he felt that here was something too deep for tears.
"Does Randy know?"
"Yes. I told him. We have always talked about things——"