“Oh, I don't know. You mustn't ask me now. I'll tell you some time.”
“Well, come to think of it,” said Mavering, laughing it all lightly away, “there's no hurry. Tell me why you accepted me to-day.”
“I—I couldn't help it. When I saw you I wanted to fall at your feet.”
“What an idea! I didn't want to fall at yours. I was awfully mad. I shouldn't have spoken to you if you hadn't stopped me and held out your hand.”
“Really? Did you really hate me, Dan?”
“Well, I haven't exactly doted on you since we last met.”
She did not seem offended at this. “Yes, I suppose so. And I've gone on being fonder and fonder of you every minute since that day. I wanted to call you back when you had got half-way to Eastport.”
“I wouldn't have come. It's bad luck to turn back.”
She laughed at his drolling. “How funny you are! Now I'm of rather a gloomy temperament. Did, you know it?”
“You don't look it.”