" She said it with perfect tranquillity.
He did not like her answer.
"Are we friends, then?" he asked, and tried to smile, though he felt
that some unruly nerve was painting the heaviness of his heart in his
face.
"How do you mean it? O'Shea and his wife are my friends, each of them in
a very different way----" She was going on, but he interrupted:
"They are your friends because they would die to serve you; but have you
never had friends who were your equals in education and intelligence?"
He was speaking hastily, using random words to suggest that more could
be had out of such a relation than faithful service.
"Are you my equal in intelligence and education?" she asked appositely,
laughter in her eyes.
He had time just for a momentary flash of self-wonder that he should so
love a woman who, when she did not keep him at some far distance,
laughed at him openly. He stammered a moment, then smiled, for he could
not help it.
"I would not care to claim that for myself," he said.
"Rather," she suggested, "let us frankly admit that you are the superior
in both."
He was sitting at the table, his elbows upon it, and now he covered his
face with his hands, half in real, half in mock, despair:
"What can I do or say?" he groaned. "What have I done that you will not
answer the honest meaning you can understand in spite of my clumsy
words?"
Then he had to look at her because she did not answer, and when he saw
that she was still ready to laugh, he laughed, too.
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