"You needn't snap my head off," he observed.
"No. But why play comedy? Mother has told you all about it, so I can't
see the use of this sort of humbug."
He was silent for a moment, and then began in a new voice. "Brigit,
I--I really have something to say to you."
"What is it?"
"It's this. That day--the last time I saw you, you know, your mother was
standing up for you when you came in. She--refused to believe me when I,
when I----"
"I know. But when I came in she was----"
"She was simply being good to me. Look here, Brigit, really and truly,
she was. She _went_ for me when I said--that. And your coming in in a
temper was what--upset the apple-cart."
Brigit raised her eyebrows.
"Right. Now let's talk about something else. When did you see Tommy?"
"A week ago. He is in town now."
"I know. I shall see him to-morrow."
"At Joyselle's?"
"Yes."
"Brigit--you can see what a wreck I am. Tell me. Are you going to marry
that boy?"
"I am."
"When?"
"In October."
"Then----"
She rose. "I am a model of patience, Gerald, but you have asked enough
questions."
"But--well, I am sorry I was such a beast. Can you endure seeing me once
in a long time--say once a month? It--it may make life possible to
me--don't say that you don't see the necessity for that! Brigit----"
"But it is so useless, Gerald, and so painful----"
"No.
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