_He_: “It was very serious for me when you didn’t meet my self-abasement as you had led me to expect you would.” _She_: “Don’t make fun! I’m trying to think whether I can forgive you.” _He_, with insinuation: “Don’t you believe you could think better if you put your head on my shoulder?” _She_: “Nonsense! Then I should forgive you without thinking.” After a season of reflection: “No, I _can’t_ forgive you. I never could forgive eavesdropping. It’s _too_ low.” _He_, in astonishment: “Why, you did it yourself!” _She_: “But you began it. Besides, it’s very different for a man. Women are weak, poor, helpless creatures. They have to use finesse. But a man should be above it.” _He_: “You said you could forgive me anything.” _She_: “Ah, but I didn’t know what you’d been doing!” _He_, with pensive resignation, and a feint of going: “Then I suppose it’s all over between us.” _She_, relenting: “If you could think of any reason _why_ I should forgive you”— _He_: “I can’t.” _She_, after consideration: “Do you suppose Mr. Grumage, or Grimidge, heard too?” _He_: “No; Grinnidge is a very high-principled fellow, and wouldn’t listen; besides, he wasn’t there, you know.” _She_: “Well, then, I will forgive you on these grounds.” _He_ instantly catches her to his heart. “But these alone, remember.” _He_, rapturously: “Oh, on any!” _She_, tenderly: “And you’ll always be devoted? And nice? And not try to provoke me? Or neglect me? Or anything?” _He_: “Always! Never!” _She_: “Oh, you dear, sweet, simple old thing—how I _do_ love you!” _Grinnidge_, who has been listening attentively to every word at the register at his side: “Ransom, if you don’t want me to go stark mad, _shut the register_!” _Ransom_, about to comply: “Oh, poor old man! I forgot it was open!” _Miss Reed_, preventing him: “No! If he has been vile enough to listen at a register, let him suffer. Come, sit down here, and I’ll tell you just when I began to care for you. It was long before the cow. Do you remember that first morning after you arrived”—_She_ drags him close to the register, so that every word may tell upon the envious Grinnidge, on whose manifestations of acute despair, a rapid curtain descends.