'' Her tone became indignant, reproachful.
``Yes, you must have known I needed your help.
And you ought to have helped me, even if you did
dislike me. You've no right to dislike anyone as young
as I.''
He was looking at her now, the intensely alive blue
eyes sympathetic, penetrating, understanding. It was
frightful to be so thoroughly understood--all one's
weaknesses laid bare--yet it was a relief and a joy, too
--like the cruel healing knife of the surgeon. Said he:
``I do not like kept women.''
She gasped, grew ghastly. It was a frightful insult,
one for which she was wholly unprepared. ``You--
believe--that?'' she said slowly.
``Another of those questions,'' he said. And he
looked calmly away, out over the sea, as if his interest
in the conversation were at an end.
What should she say? How deny--how convince
him? For convince him she must, and then go away
and never permit him to speak to her again until he had
apologized. She said quietly: ``Mr. Keith, you have
insulted me.
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