"You weren't nice. You weren't ..." Jenny hesitated. "You didn't ... you weren't nice." "I didn't want to frighten you." Jenny drew herself up, frantically angry. "_Now_ who's lying!" she savagely cried, and put her hands to disengage herself. "Oh Keith, I'm so sick of it!" He held her more tightly. All her efforts were unavailing against that slowly increased pressure from his strong arms. "Listen, Jenny," Keith said. "I love you. That's that. I wanted to see you more than anything on earth. I wanted to kiss you. Good God, Jen.... D'you think you're the easiest person in the world to manage?" iii The bewilderment that succeeded clove the silence. Jenny gasped against her will. "What do you mean?" she demanded. "You think I'm looking on you as cheap ... when I'm in an absolute funk of you!" Keith cried. "O-oh!" Her exclamation was incredulity itself. Keith persisted warmly: "I'm not lying. It's all true. And you're a termagant, Jenny. That's what you are. You want it all your own way! Anything that goes wrong is my fault--not yours! You don't think there's anything that's your fault. It's all mine. But, my good girl, that's ridiculous. What d'you think I know about _you?_ Eh? Nothing whatever! Absolutely nothing! You think you're as clear as day! You're not. You're a dark horse. I'm afraid of you--afraid of your temper ... your pride. You won't see that. You think it's my fault that ..." Keith's excitement almost convinced Jenny. "Shouting won't do any good," she said, deeply curious and overwhelmed by her bewilderment. "Pull yourself together, Jenny!" he urged. "Look at it from my side if you can. Try! Imagine I've got a side, that is. And now I'll tell you something about myself ... no lies; and you'll have to make the best of the truth. The Truth!" Laughing, he kissed her; and Jenny, puzzled but intrigued, withheld her indignation in order to listen to the promised account. Keith began. "Well, Jenny: I told you I was thirty. I'm thirty-one in a couple of months. I'll tell you the date, and you can work me a sampler. And I was born in a place you've never set eyes on--and I hope you never will set eyes on it. I was born in Glasgow. And there's a smelly old river there, called the Clyde, where they launch big ships ... a bit bigger than the _Minerva_. The _Minerva_ was built in Holland. Well, my old father was a tough old chap--not a Scotchman, though my mother was Scotch--with a big business in Glasgow. He was as rich as--well, richer than anybody you ever met. Work that out! And he was as tough as a Glasgow business man. They're a special kind. And I was his little boy. He had no other little boys. You interested?" Jenny nodded sharply, her breast against his, so that she felt every breath he drew.