“Oh, nothing.”
“Yes, there is—tell me.”
“Nothing—I assure you, there’s not.”
“And I know better. Confound it! can’t I see something is going on that I don’t understand? You couldn’t, be gloomier if you had broken with—with your sweetheart.”
“Well, I have.” Steve turned and looked out of the window to where the light in the clerk’s office shone through the trees.
“What!” Jacquelin was on his feet in a second.
“Jack, I’m in love.”
“I know that. But what do you mean by—by—that you have broken with—?”
“That I’m in love with Ruth Welch.” he spoke quietly.
“What—what do you mean?” Jacquelin’s voice faltered.