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"What is it they write to you?" he repeated.

"I often think men have no understanding of what's not honorable

though they're always talking of it," said Anna, without

answering him. "I've wanted to tell you so a long while," she

added, and moving a few steps away, she sat down at a table in a

corner covered with albums.

"I don't quite understand the meaning of your words," he said,

handing her the cup.

She glanced towards the sofa beside her, and he instantly sat

down.

"Yes, I have been wanting to tell you," she said, not looking at

him. "You behaved wrongly, very wrongly."

"Do you suppose I don't know that I've acted wrongly? But who was

the cause of my doing so?"

"What do you say that to me for?" she said, glancing severely at

him.

"You know what for," he answered boldly and joyfully, meeting her

glance and not dropping his eyes.

Not he, but she, was confused.

"That only shows you have no heart," she said. But her eyes said

that she knew he had a heart, and that was why she was afraid of

him.