She began to work again at her embroidery, keeping her eyes bent upon it. The Philosopher did not pursue the theme he had started; in some subtle way he was made aware that immorality was not a subject on which to engage the attention of the Sentimentalist. There are very few men who, in the presence of real purity and refinement expressed in a woman’s personality, do not hesitate to bring forward topics which however reasonable, are at the same time questionable in taste. With a mannish, smoking woman the Philosopher would have swung into brilliant diatribes concerning sex and its demands, but with this sweet, composed, dainty little lady of sentiment, he was not sure of his ground, especially in the immediate state of his own emotions. Emotions? Had he any? It seemed so,--anyway he was beginning to feel as if he had.
“Yes,” he said, deliberately. “You were very kind to me before the war. Before the war I scratched my hand among your rose-bushes, and you--you kissed the place and made it well! You may forget that generous action--”
“Oh, no!” she interrupted, laughingly. “I remember it! I would do it again!”
He straightened himself in his chair with an abrupt movement.
“Of course I would! Why shouldn’t I? Especially if you were frightened, and thought you were going to be blood-poisoned!”
“I was _not_ frightened!” he said. “I did _not_ think I was going to be blood-poisoned! I’m not such a fool! I only wanted you to be--to be--”
Her eyes sparkled a trifle mischievously.
“You were! And I want you to be kind to me now!”
She looked at him half-timidly, half-warningly.
“You are--you are!” and the erudite Walter Craig, F.S.A., became all at once confused, and felt an extraordinary furnace-like heat flushing his face. “But--but--but not quite kind enough! I want you to be kinder--I want you to--to--”
She dropped her embroidery suddenly, and rising came over to him in the prettiest way imaginable and knelt beside him like a child asking a favour.
“I know--I know!” she said, softly and coaxingly. “But don’t say what you want!--like a good, kind man, don’t say it!”
His eyes opened wide in amazement. He stooped towards her and took her hand in his own.
“Don’t say it?” he echoed. “Why--why shouldn’t I say it?”