"Are you sure? I know you've been worrying about me these last few days, ever since you found out. Wondering if I were going totally neurotic on you, and watching for the next symptoms. Now, dear, you don't have to deny it. It was the natural thing. I expected you'd be suspicious of me for a while. With your knowledge of psychiatry, it would be impossible for you to believe that anyone could shake off an obsession so quickly. And I've been so happy to get free from all that, that your suspicions haven't bothered me. I've known they would wear off." "But, darling, I honestly haven't been suspicious," he protested. "Maybe I ought to have been, but I haven't." Her gray-green eyes were enigmatic and serious. She said slowly, "Then what are you worrying about?" "Nothing at all." Here was where he had to be very careful. She shook her head. "That's not true. You are worrying. Oh, I know there are some things on your mind that you haven't told me about. It isn't that." He looked up quickly. She nodded. "About the chairmanship. And that some student has been threatening you. And about that Van Nice girl." She smiled briefly, as he started to protest. "Oh, I know you aren't the type who seduces love-struck and innocent mimeograph operators." She became serious again. "Those are all minor matters, things you can take in your stride. You didn't tell me about them because you were afraid I might backslide, from the desire to protect you. Isn't that right?" "Yes." "But I have the feeling that what you're worrying about goes much deeper than that. Yesterday and today I've even felt that you wanted to turn to me for help, and somehow didn't dare." He paused, as if thinking exactly how to phrase his answer. But he was studying her face, trying to read the exact meaning of each little familiar quirk of expression around the mouth and eyes. She looked very contained, but that was only a mask, he thought. Actually, in spite of everything she said, she must still be poised close to the brink of her obsession. One little push, such as a few careless words on his part--How the devil had he ever let himself get so enmeshed in his own worries and those ridiculous projections of his own cranky imagination? Here was the only thing that mattered--the mind behind this smooth brown forehead and these clear, gray-green eyes; to steer that mind away from any such ridiculous notions as those he had been indulging in, the last few days. "To tell the truth," he said, "I _have_ been worried about you. I thought it would hurt your self-confidence if I let you know. Maybe I was unwise--you seem to have sensed it, anyway--but that's what I thought. The way you feel now, of course, it can't possibly hurt you to know." It occurred to him that it was easier to lie convincingly when you loved someone, provided the lie were for that person's sake. She did not give in at once. "Are you sure?" she said. "I still have the feeling there's more to it."