"You had no right to say what you did. You said 'Calypso'--and I ought
not to have heard you.... But I did.... Tell me; if I am too generous to
suspect you of intentional impertinence, you are now too chastened to
suspect that I came back to give you this chance. That is quite true,
isn't it?"

"Of course. You _are_ generous and--it's simply fine of you to overlook
it."

"I don't know whether I intend to overlook it; I was surprised and
disappointed; but I _did_ desire to give you another chance. And I was
so afraid you'd be rude enough to take it that--I spoke first. That was
logical. Oh, I know what I'm doing--and it's particularly common of
me--being who I am--"

She paused, meeting his gaze deliberately.

"You don't know who I am. Do you?"

"No," he said. "I don't deserve to. But I'll be miserable until I do."

After a moment: "And you are not going to ask me--because, once, I said
that it was nice of you not to?"

The hint of mockery in her voice edged his lips with a smile, but he
shook his head. "No, I won't ask you that," he said. "I've been beastly
enough for one day."

"Don't you care to know?"