you could. You've always done that: you're doing it even now at the very moment when you intend to tell me I've got to give up my last hope of you."
"Now?" she asked scornfully. "What am I doing now?"
"You're looking your most beautiful!" He laughed painfully. "You couldn't even bring yourself to the decency of dressing unbecomingly or in any way looking less charming—and I couldn't possibly find a more damning thing to say of you."
"Oh, dear!" she murmured. "I think you've said this to me several times before, Walter."
He caught his breath; then he said quietly, "Yes, the only novelty about this is that it's the last time. Don't think I'm unaware of the answer you're going to give me. It's 'no.'"
She continued to look away from him, and did not speak.
"Isn't it?" he said, in a voice a little tremulous, after a silence. "Isn't it 'no'?"
She turned and looked at him with a sorrowful gravity. "I told you more than a year ago that I could never be in love with you, Walter. You've been pretty nice to me and you know well enough how much I like you. I like to be with you—when you're
