"Would you like to hear it ?" She pulled away her hands sharply.

"Yes," she replied with defiance.
"But you pulled away your hands first," said he.
He heard her breathe heavily for a moment, but she said nothing.
"Yes," he said, as if she had spoken, "it is true." "What is true ?" "What you are saying to yourself just now--that you hate me." She beat the floor with her foot.
"How you hate me, Alice!" "Oh, no." "Yes, indeed you do." "I wonder why," she said, and she trembled a little.
"I know why." He had come close to her again.

"Shall I tell you why ?" She said "No," hurriedly.
"I am so glad you say No." He spoke passionately, and yet there was banter in his voice, or so it seemed to her.

"It is because you fear to be told; it is because you had hoped that I did not know." "Tell me why I hate you!" she cried.
"Tell me first that you do." "Oh, I do, I do indeed!" She said the words in a white heat of hatred.
Before she could prevent him he had raised her hand to his lips.
"Dear Alice!" he said.
"Why is it ?" she demanded.
"Listen!" he said.

"Listen to your heart, Alice; it is beating now.