“Perhaps you don’t know what we talked of?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I suppose it was her use of what you told her that annoyed me; but I can’t understand how you came to mention the matter to her at all; much less to go into particulars, as you seem to have done.”
Easton colored, but did not speak.
“Have you anything to say to me, Easton? I can’t bear to have the slightest thing between us.”
“Not—not now.”
They were both silent; and Easton doggedly cast down his eyes.
“Very well, Easton,” said Gilbert, rising and going toward him, “if you intend to say something by and by, and can justify yourself to yourself in making me wait, it’s all right; I can wait.”
He held out his hand, and Easton yearned to grasp it as it was offered, but his cold clasp relaxed upon it, and the severed friends trudged silently on through the dust toward the hotel.