"I wish I could believe that, but I can't.

I ain't a fool." "Yes, you are." Jean contradicted him pitilessly.

"You were a fool when you thought you could go away and no one think you knew anything at all about--Johnny Croft." Art's fingers had been picking at a loose splinter on the wooden rail whereon he sat.

He looked down at it, jerked it loose with a sharp twist, and began snapping off little bits with his thumb and forefinger.

In a minute he looked up at Jean, and his eyes were different.