He suspected her meaning, however, only too shrewdly, and his heart beat with apprehension. Had he been fool enough to betray his secret?
“Are n't you getting just a little too fond of Norma, Jimmie?”
“I could n't get too fond of her,” he said, “seeing that she is to be Morland's wife.”
“That's just why you must n't. Come, Jimmie, have n't you fallen a bit in love with her?”
“No,” he said with some heat. “Certainly not. How dare I?”
Kindness and teasing were in her eyes.
“My poor dear husband used to say I had the brain of a bird, but I may have the sharp eyes of a bird as well. Come—not just one little bit in love?”
She had sought him with the best intentions in the world. She had long suspected; yesterday and to-day had given her certainty. She would put him on his guard, talk to him like an elder sister, pour forth upon him her vast wisdom in affairs of the heart, and finally persuade him-from his folly to more sensible courses.
“He sha'n't come to grief over Norma if I can prevent it,” she had said to herself.
And now, in spite of her altruistic resolve, she could not resist the pleasure of teasing him. She had done so all her life. Her method became less elder-sisterly than she had intended. But she was miles from realising that she touched bare nerves, and that the man was less a man than a living pain.