After a pause, she added,
``I'd not dare say it.''
``Or think it,'' said he.
She colored. ``What do you mean?'' she asked.
He did not reply.
``What do you mean, Mr. Keith?'' she urged.
``You are always asking me questions to which you
already know the answer,'' said he.
``You're referring to a week or so ago, when I asked
you why you disliked me?''
No answer. No sign of having heard. No outward
sign of interest in anything, even in the cigarette drooping
from the corner of his mouth.
``Wasn't that it?'' she insisted.
``You are always asking me questions to which you
already know the answer,'' repeated he.
``I am annoying you?''
No answer.
She laughed. ``Do you want me to go away and
leave you in peace with that--law case--or whatever
it is?''
``I don't like to be alone.''
``But anyone would do?--a dog?''
No reply.
``You mean, a dog would be better because it doesn't
ask questions to which it knows the answer.''
No reply.
``Well, I have a pleasant-sounding voice.
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