She had always been his little sister.

They were not giving to thinking of it that way--certainly not speaking of it--but the tenderness of the relationship was there.

Consciousness of it came now as she seemed to read in Wayne's look that she hurt him in withholding her confidence, in not having felt it possible to trust even him.
She broke under that look.

"Wayne dear," she said unevenly, "I don't deny there is something to tell.

I'd like to tell you, if I could.