It was the first time in her life any man had told her that she was refined and graceful and flower-like; that she was, so to speak, wasting her sweetness on the desert air, and the speech was both pleasant and painful to her.

The long dark lashes swept her cheek; her lips set tightly to repress the quiver which threatened them; but when he had completely broken down, she raised her eyes to his with a look so grave, so sweet, so girlish, that Stafford's heart leapt, not for the first time that morning, and there flashed through him the unexpected thought: "What would not a man give to have those eyes turned upon him with love shining in their depths!" "I'm not offended," she said.

"I know what you mean.

None of your lady-friends would do it because they are ladies.

I'm sorry.