“Well?”
“If you had cared for me, it couldn't have happened.”
“Oh yes, it could. Now that's just where you're mistaken. That's where a woman never can understand a man. I might carry on with half a dozen girls, and yet never forget you, or think less of you, although I could see all the time how pretty and bright every one of 'em was. That's the way a man's mind is built. It's curious, but it's true.”
“I don't believe I care for any share in your mind, then,” said the girl.
“Oh, come, now! You don't mean that. You know I was just joking; you know I don't justify what I've done, and I don't excuse it. But I think I've acted pretty square with you about it—about telling you, I mean. I don't want to lay any claim, but you remember when you made me promise that if there was anything shady I wanted to hide from you—Well, I acted on that. You do remember?”
“Yes,” said Cynthia, and she pulled the cloud over the side of her face next to him, and walked a little faster.
He hastened his steps to keep up with her. “Cynthy, if you put your arms round me, as you did then—”
“I can't Jeff!”
“You don't want to.”
“Yes, I do! But you don't want me to, as you did then. Do you?” She stopped abruptly and faced him full. “Tell me, honestly!”