"It wasn't _that_?" she repeated. "Was it?... You never cared about such petty things, did you? _Did_ you? _Do_ you care? Because I never dreamed that you cared.... What has a little imprudence--a little silly mischief--to do with our friendship? _Has_ it anything to do with it? You've never said anything--and ... I've flirted--I've been spoons on men--you knew it. Besides, I've nearly always told you. I've told you without thinking it could possibly matter to you--to _you_ of all men! What do you care what I do?--as long as I am to you what I have always been?" "I--_don't_--care." "Of course not. How _can_ you?" She leaned nearer, dark and curious gaze searching his. Then, with a nervous laugh voicing the impossible--"_You_ are not in love with me--that way. Are you?" she asked, scarcely realising what she was saying. "No," he said, forcing a smile. "Are you with _me_?" She flushed scarlet: "Kelly, I never thought--dreamed--hoped--" Her voice caught in her throat a moment; "I--such a matter has not occurred to me." She looked at him partly dismayed, partly confused, unable now to understand him--or even herself. "You know--that kind of love--" she began--"_real_ love, never has happened to me. You didn't think _that_, did you?--because--just because I did flirt a little with you? It didn't mean anything serious--anything of _that_ kind. Kelly, dear, _have_ you mistaken me? Is _that_ what annoys you? Were you afraid I was silly enough, mad enough to--to really think of you--in that way?" "No." "Oh, I was sure you couldn't believe it of me. See how perfectly frank and honest I have been with you. Why, you never were sentimental--and a girl isn't unless a man begins it! You never kissed me--except last summer when you were going away--and both of our hearts were pretty full--" "Wait," he said, suddenly exasperated, "are you trying to make me understand that you haven't the slightest real emotion concerning me--concerning me as a _man_--like other men?" She looked at him, still confused and distressed, still determined he should not misunderstand her: "I don't know what you mean; truly I don't. I'm only trying to make you believe that I am not guilty of thinking--wishing--of pretending that in our frank companionship there lay concealed anything of--of deeper significance--" "Suppose--it were true?" he said. "But it is _not_ true!" she retorted angrily--and looked up, caught his gaze, and her breath failed her. "Suppose it were true--for example," he repeated. "Suppose you did find that you or I were capable of--deeper--" "Louis! Louis! Do you realise what you are saying to me? Do you understand what you are doing to the old order of things between us--to the old confidences, the old content, the happiness, the--the innocence of our life together? _Do_ you? Do you even _care_?" "Care? Yes--I care."