“Soap, towels, and a pitcher of ice-water.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll go now,” he said to Carrie, coming toward her and holding out his hands, but she did not move to take them.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he asked softly.
“Oh, no!” she answered, rather indifferently.
“Don’t you care for me at all?”
She made no answer, but looked steadily toward the window.
“Don’t you think you could love me a little?” he pleaded, taking one of her hands, which she endeavoured to draw away. “You once said you did.”
“What made you deceive me so?” asked Carrie.
“I couldn’t help it,” he said, “I wanted you too much.”