"It will spoil the book for you if I tell you, Mr.von Rosen," said she, and her voice was at once firm and piteous.

She could not tell the story of her own book to him.

She would be as deceitful as poor Margaret, for all the time he would think she was talking of Margaret's work and not of her own.
Von Rosen laughed.

After all he cared very little indeed about the book.

He had what he cared for: a walk home with this very sweet and very natural girl, who did not seem to care whether he walked home with her or not.
"I dare say you are right," he said, "but I doubt if your telling me about it would spoil the book for me, because it is more than probable that I shall never read it after all.