"
And as she met that look, so luminously, so superlatively sincere, she
knew that he had lied. "All the same," said she, "I can't take it.
Don't think it unfriendly of me. It isn't. In fact, don't you see it's
just because we have been--we are--friends that I must refuse it? I
can't take advantage of that"--she was going to say "feeling," but
thought better of it.
"And don't you see by refusing you are compelling me to be
dishonourable? If you were really my friend you would think more of my
honour than of your own scruples. Or is that asking too much?" He felt
that he had scored in this game of keen intelligences.
"No. But it would be wrong of me to let your honour be influenced by
our friendship."
"Don't think of our friendship, then. It's all pure business, as
brutally impersonal as you like."
"If I could only see it that way."
"I should have thought it was quite transparently and innocently
clear." He had scored again. For now he had taxed her with stupidity.
"If I could persuade you that it came from my father, you wouldn't
mind. You mind because you think it comes from me. Isn't that so?"
She was silent, and he knew.
"How can I persuade you? I can only repeat that I've absolutely
nothing to do with it." There was but little friendliness about him
now. His whole manner was full of weariness and irritation. "Why
should you imagine that I had?"
"Because it would have been so very like you.
Pages:
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794