Do you know," he burst out with evident emotion, "that was the first criticism--I mean downright honest criticism--I've ever had in my life.

Nobody--that is nobody who knew--ever thought enough of me before to tell me where I was wrong." It was all a pathetic mistake, she saw, but she saw also that it was impossible for her to explain it away.

She could not tell him the ugly truth that she had been merely laughing at him when he had believed, in his beautiful simplicity, that she was speaking as a friend.

Though she felt ashamed, humbled, remorseful, there was nothing that she could say now which would not hurt him more than the original misunderstanding had done.
In her desire to atone as far as possible, she remarked recklessly: "I only wish I could be of some real help to you." "You can," he answered frankly.

"You can let me come to see you sometimes before I go West again." "You are going back in the spring ?" He laughed happily, drawing himself erect with a large, free movement as if he needed to stretch his limbs.