He did not spend more time with her. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. WE don’t think they’re right, but they don’t think we are. You only mean a secret for a little time?” “Just for a little time,” she said; “yes. "He can't get out. No! That was impossible. You will leave me utterly distraught. ” She went on, with a desperate attempt to be easy and colloquial: “You see, we were rather good friends, I thought, and now perhaps it will be difficult for us to get back to the old friendly footing.
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