“Jacques is a nice, honest fellow.”
“No doubt,” said Reggie loftily. “I’ll give him a tip next time he
passes.”
“Oh, how _can_ you be so despicably mean?” I cried.
He turned around in his seat abruptly:
“What in the world has come over you, Marion! You have changed since I
came back.”
I felt the injustice of this and shut my lips tight. I did not want to
quarrel with Reggie, but I was burning with indignation and I was hurt
through and through by his attitude.
In silence we left the train and in silence went to my home. At the door
Reggie said:
“We had a pleasant day. Why do you always spoil things so? Good-night.”
I could not speak. I had done nothing and he made me feel as if I had
committed a crime. The tears ran down my face and I tried to open the
door. Reggie’s arms came around me from behind, and, tilting back my
face, he kissed me.
“There, there, old girl,” he said, “I’ll forgive you this time, but
don’t let it happen again.”