Part 81 (1/2)
They were walking slowly up and down the long terrace.
”One pa.s.ses away from things,” she said, ”as one goes on. It is rather a horrible feeling.”
Suddenly, moved by an impulse that was almost girlish, she stopped on the path and said:
”What is the matter with you to-day? Why are you angry with me?”
Craven flushed.
”Angry! But I am not angry!”
”Yes, you are. Tell me why.”
”How could I--I'm really not angry. As if I could be angry with you!”
”Then why are you so different?”
”In what way am I different?”
She did not answer, but said:
”Did you hear what the baron and I were talking about at lunch?”
”Just a few words.”
”I hope you didn't think I wished to join in gossip about Beryl Van Tuyn?”
”Of course not.”
”I hate all such talk. If that offended you--”
She was losing her dignity and knew it, but a great longing to overcome his rigidity drove her on.
”If you think--”
”It wasn't that!” he said. ”I have no reason to mind what anyone says about Miss Van Tuyn.”
”But she's your friend!”
”Is she? I think a friend is a very rare thing. You have taught me that.”
”I? How?”
”You went abroad without letting me know.”
”Is that it?” she said.
And there was a strange note, like a note of joy, in her voice.
”I think you might have told me. And you put me off. I was to have seen you--”