"You may speak to me as you would to a father confessor; as you would to a--mother." "Oh, I know that," said Derrick, and his own voice shook a little.
"Strangely enough--I'm afraid you'll think I'm pretty impudent--but ever since I saw you I have felt----Oh, well, I can't explain." He leant forward with profound respect and a warmer feeling he could not understand.

"I suppose it was because you were so good to me; perhaps because you were so lonely, here amongst all these people----Oh, I _can't_ explain, and I'm afraid I'm distressing you," he went on remorsefully; for the frail figure was trembling, and the tears had gathered in the dark eyes.

"I'm a blundering kind of idiot, and I'm worrying you with my tuppenny-ha'penny affairs.

Forgive me!" She drew her hand across her eyes; then slowly, hesitatingly, laid the hand on his arm.
"There is nothing to forgive," she murmured.

"But tell me.