“Yes, I’ve got over it,” he said.
“And what was it?” she boldly pursued.
He was about to say, and then he could not.
“You won’t tell?”
“Not yet,” he answered. He added, after a moment, “I don’t believe I can.”
“Because it’s confidential?”
“No; not exactly that. Because it’s impossible.”
“Oh, that’s simple enough. I understand exactly what you mean. Well, if ever it becomes less difficult, remember that I should always like to know. It seemed a little—personal.”
“How in the world?”
“Well, when one is stared at in that way—”