“A great deal,” said Cynthia, not caring to define it.
“Cynthia,” said Mr. Worthington, sitting down on the beach and facing her, “do you think you've treated me just right?”
“Of course I do,” she said, “or I should have treated you differently.”
Bob ignored such quibbling.
“Why did you run away from that baseball game in Brampton? And why couldn't you have answered my letter yesterday, if it were only a line? And why have you avoided me here in Washington?”
It is very difficult to answer for another questions which one cannot answer for one's self.
“I haven't avoided you,” said Cynthia.
“I've been looking for you all over town this morning,” said Bob, with pardonable exaggeration, “and I believe that idiot Somers has, too.”
“Then why should you call him an idiot?” Cynthia flashed.
Bob laughed.