"When I say it is she, I'm not sure of it."
"Of course it isn't."
"That's what I say, and the next moment I know it is."
"And is THIS your trouble?"
"Yes," answered Lynde, knitting his brows. "I felt that I shouldn't make it clear to you."
"I am afraid you haven't, Ned. What earthly difference does it make to you whether or not it's the same girl?"
"What difference!" cried Lynde impetuously; "what difference—when I love the very ground she walks on!"
"Oh, you love her! Which one?"
"Don't laugh at me, Flemming."
"I am not laughing," said Flemming, looking puzzled and anxious. "It is not possible, Ned, you have allowed yourself to go and get interested in a—a person not right in her mind!"