the other person will care, and you know they're idiots. And
then your time comes, and you go and are the same old idiot
yourself. . . . Queer. Well, I'm sorry, Marjorie. Shall I go now?
We can think about what we'd better do next time we talk it over."

"Oh, please, please!" begged Marjorie. "Oh, Francis, I feel like a
dog--a miserable, little coward-dog. And--and I don't know why you're
making all this up. I--I haven't said anything like what----"

He put his arm around her, not in the least as if he were her lover.
It only felt protecting, not like a man's touch.

"I would be glad to think you cared for me. But I am almost sure you
don't. Everything you have said, and every one of your actions since
we came in, have seemed to me as if you didn't. It isn't your fault,
poor little thing. It's mine for hurrying you into it. . . .
Marjorie, Marjorie--_do_ you?"

There was an intense entreaty in his tone. But she knew that only the
truth would do.

"No," she said, dropping her head.

"I thought not," he said, rising stiffly and crossing to the door.
"Well, I'll go now. I'll come back some time to-morrow, whenever it's
most convenient for you, and we'll discuss details."

She ran after him. She did feel very guilty.

"Oh, Francis--Francis! Please don't go! I'm sure I'll feel the way I
should when I've tried a little longer!"

He stopped for a moment, but only to write something down on a piece of
paper.

"There's my telephone number," he said. "No, Marjorie, I can't stay
any longer. This has been pretty bad. I've got to go off and curl up
a minute, I think, if you don't mind. . . . Oh, dearest, don't you see
that I _can't_ stay? I'll have myself straightened out by to-morrow,
but----"

He had been acting very reasonably up to now. But now he flung himself
out the door like a tornado. It echoed behind him. Marjorie did not
try to keep him. She sat still for a minute longer, shivering. Then
she began to cry. She certainly did not want him for her husband, but
equally she did not want him to go off and leave her. So she went over
to the davenport again, where she could cry better, and did wonders in
that line, in a steady, low-spirited way, till Lucille came breezily in.

Lucille Strong was a plump, exuberant person with corn-colored hair and
bright blue eyes and the most affectionate disposition in the world.
She also had a quick, fly-away temper, and more emotions than
principles.