"It's
been running in my head all the morning." (He now remembered with
sudden pity that no memories of sacred words and song could follow
her from her home and childhood.) "But I suppose you think it is
strange I can sing at all, Mr. Van Berg," she continued gravely.
"You must think me very superficial that I do not appear to realize
more a crime that makes it exceedingly kind of you even to speak
to me, since you know about it. But I have realized the wickedness
of that act more bitterly than you can ever know."
"Miss Mayhew, I admit that I can't understand you at all. You have
become a greater mystery to me than ever. You see, I imitate your
truthfulness."
"There is no necessity of solving the problem," she said in a low
tone, and averting her face.
"Do you mean," he asked, flushing slightly, "that my interest is
obtrusive and not agreeable to you?"
"If inspired by curiosity--yes," and she looked him steadily in
the face.
"But if inspired by a genuine and earnest wish to be your friend
and to atone for the unpardonable injustice which came about from
my not understanding you?"
"If I believed that," she said, with something like a smile, "I'd
take you with me this morning and reveal all the mystery there is
about my poor little self in one brief hour.
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