She was still holding my arm, perhaps that gave her courage, and she looked across at Max, who was walking on my other side.
'Mr.Cunliffe, I am so sorry you were hurt with me the other night, when Etta spoke about the schools.

I am not giving up work for my own pleasure; I loved it far too much; but there are reasons,' I heard Max give a quick, impatient sigh in the darkness.
'So you always say, Miss Hamilton; you remember we have talked of this before.

I have thought it my duty more than once to remonstrate with you about giving up your work, but one seems to talk in the dark; somehow you have never given me any very definite reasons,--headaches,--well, as though I did not know you well enough to be sure you are the last person to think of ailments.' 'Yes, but one's friends are over-careful; but still you are right; it is not only that.

Mr.Cunliffe, I wish you would believe that I have good and sufficient reasons for what I do, even if I cannot explain them.

It makes one unhappy to be misunderstood by one's clergyman, and,' hesitating a moment, 'and one's friends,' 'Friends are not left so completely in the dark,' was the pointed answer.
'It is no use, Miss Hamilton.