It was no good being impatient with him.

At any rate, he would tell her now what ailed him.
"We agreed on friendship," he went on in a dull, monotonous voice.

"How often HAVE we agreed for friendship! And yet--it neither stops there, nor gets anywhere else." He was silent again.

She brooded.

What did he mean?
He was so wearying.
There was something he would not yield.