“It is nothing. Please don’t pay any attention to me.”
“But it is something. Am I not your friend?”
For a moment neither spoke. Annie Warren all at once became conscious that the other woman was looking at her in a way she had never done before.
“Assuredly you are my friend, Annie. But just the same, it’s nothing.” The look altered until it became a smile.
“Tell me, instead, why you are here,” Mollie went on. “It is not usual at this time of day.”
Annie Warren felt the rebuff, and she was hurt.
“It is nothing.” The visitor was on her feet, her voice again resentful; her chin was held high, while her long lashes drooped. “Pardon me for intruding, for––”
No answer save the quiver of a sensitive red lip.
“Annie, child, pardon me. I wouldn’t for the world hurt you; but it is so hard, what you ask.” Mollie Babcock rose, now, likewise. “However, if you wish––”