"And the girl ?" "She didn't care--or know--for a long time.

I'm not really sure she cares--or knows--even now." Arkwright's eyes were wistfully fixed on Billy's face.
"Oh, but you can't tell, always, about girls," murmured Billy, hurriedly.

A faint pink had stolen to her forehead.

She was thinking of Alice Greggory, and wondering if, indeed, Alice did care; and if she, Billy, might dare to assure this man--what she believed to be true--that his sweetheart was only waiting for him to come to her and tell her that he loved her.
Arkwright saw the color sweep to Billy's forehead, and took sudden courage.

He leaned forward eagerly.