He knew very well how difficult.
"I can't imagine why I thought of Maryon just now," went on Nan, a puzzled frown wrinkling her brows.

"I never do, as a rule, when I'm with you." She smiled rather wistfully and with a restless movement he sprang to his feet and began pacing the room.

A little cry of dismay broke from her and she came quickly to his side, lifting a questioning face to his.
"Why, Peter--Peter--What have I said?
You're not angry, are you ?" "_Angry_!" His voice roughened a bit.

"If I could only tell you the truth!" "Tell it me," she said simply.
For a moment he was silent.

Then: "Don't ask me, Nan.