"Let you write ?" she said impatiently.

"Why, you know I depended on your writing, Giff, and you must tell me everything you can think of.

What's the good of having a friend in Lockhaven, if you don't ?" She had clasped her hands lightly on her knees, and was leaning forward a little, looking at him; for he had turned away from her, and was pulling at a bunch of violets.

"I tell you what it is, Lois," he said; "I cannot go away, and write to you, and not--and not tell you.

I suppose I'm a fool to tell you, but I can't help it." "Tell me what ?" Lois asked, bewildered.
"Oh," Gifford burst out, rising, and standing beside her, his big figure looming up in the darkness, "it's this talk of friendship, Lois, that I cannot stand.