"
"Of course, of course, dear. Only don't _think_ in this way."
"I accuse her of nothing but accepting this sort of homage."
"I know; of course,--only not even to me. They are friends. We have no
right to spy upon them; it's almost as if you had laid a trap for her and
then pointed her out to me in it. Oh, I know that you didn't mean it so."
"Spy on her! I only wanted to know!"
"But your tone was, well, rather offensively--humorous."
"Can you feel that a friendship to be taken seriously? The very kindest
thing is to treat it lightly, humorously, as I did. She ought to be laughed
out of tolerating such an unbecoming relationship. A woman of her age ought
not to be able to blush like that."
Looking down again, still with his deep flush, Jack said, "Really, Imogen,
I think that you take too much upon yourself."
Imogen felt her cheeks whiten. She fixed her eyes hard on his downcast
face.
"It will be the last touch to all I have to bear, Jack, if mama brings
a misunderstanding between you and me. If you can feel it fitting,
appropriate, that a widow of barely four months should encourage the
infatuation of a stupid old Englishman, then I have no more to say. We
have different conceptions of right and wrong, that is all." Imogen's lips
trembled slightly in pronouncing the words.
"I should agree with you if that were the case, Imogen. I don't believe
that it is."
"Very well. Wait and see if it isn't the case," said Imogen.
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