Then instantly she knew that in her haste to cover a very
girlish sense of pleasure in the thing he had said she herself had said
an unkind one. She knew it as a slow red came into her guest's handsome
face and his eyes darkened. Before he could speak--though, indeed, he
did not seem in haste to speak--she added, putting out her hand
impulsively:
"Forgive me; I didn't mean it. You have been lovely to every one
to-night, and I have appreciated it. I am wrong; I think you are much
more--and have in you far more--than--as if you were only--the thing I
said."
He made no immediate reply, though he took the hand she gave him. He
continued to look at her for so long that her own eyes fell. When he did
speak it was in a low, odd tone which she could not quite understand.
"Miss Gray," said he, "if you want to cut a man to the quick, insist on
thinking him that which he has never had any love for being, and which
he has grown to detest the thought of. But perhaps it's a salutary sort
of surgery, for--by the powers! if I can't make you think differently of
me it won't be for lack of will. So--thank you for being hard on me,
thank you for everything.
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