Don't be any more angry than you can help.

I was all right until I knew you were in town.

If you'd sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won't let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home." Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.

"Is this the way you mean to answer it, Hilda ?" he asked unsteadily.
She was afraid to look up at him.

"Didn't--didn't you mean even to say goodby to me, Bartley?
Did you mean just to--quit me ?" she asked.