He was as much self-deceived as was she, and he made more noise about it.
"It is you who have misunderstood me," she replied, smiling brightly now, but with just a faint, pitiful touch of regret, or self-blame lingering in her voice.

"Father Beret said you would.

I did not believe him; but--" "And you shall not believe him," said Beverley.

"I have not misunderstood you.

There has been nothing.