"Yes," said Thyrsis. "I have something I must say to you, please."

She noticed the change in a flash, and she stopped. "What's the
matter?"

"I don't know just how to tell you," said Thyrsis, in a low,
quivering voice. "I've been a hound, and now I don't want to be a
cad. But I'm sorry for what we were talking about."

"You mean what _you_ were talking about, don't you?" demanded the
girl, her eyes flashing.

Thyrsis dropped his glance. "Yes," he said. "I am a cur. I beg your
pardon. I am so ashamed of myself that I don't know what to do. But,
oh, I was crazy. I couldn't help it! and I--I'm so sorry!" There
were tears in his voice.

"Humph," said the girl, "it's all right."

"No," said Thyrsis, "it's all wrong. It's dreadful--it's horrible.
I don't know what I should have done---"

"Well, you better not do it any more, that's all," said she. "I'm
sure you needn't worry about me--I'll take care of myself."

Thyrsis looked at her again; she was no longer beautiful. Her face
was coarse, and her anger did not make it any better. His humility
made no impression.