``You think I am not capable of caring! You think I am vain and
shallow and idle. You refuse me all right to live, simply
because I happen to live in surroundings you don't approve of.''

``I'm not such an egotistical ass as to imagine a woman of your
sort could be genuinely in love with a man of my sort,'' replied
he. ``So, I'll see to it that we keep away from each other. I
don't wish to be tempted to do you mischief.''

She looked at him inquiringly.

But he did not explain. He said: ``And you are going now. And
we shall not meet again except by accident.''

She gave a sigh of hopelessness. ``I suppose I have lowered
myself in your eyes by being so frank--by showing and speaking
what I felt,'' she said mournfully.

``Not in the least,'' rejoined he. ``A man who is anybody or has
anything soon gets used to frankness in women. I could hardly
have gotten past thirty, in a more or less conspicuous position,
without having had some experience. . . . and without learning
not to attach too much importance to--to frankness in women.''

She winced again. ``You wouldn't say those things if you knew
how they hurt,'' she said. ``If I didn't care for you, could I
sit here and let you laugh at me?''

``Yes, you could,'' answered he. ``Hoping somehow or other to
turn the laugh upon me later on. But really I was not laughing