But at length, after more entreaty and self-abasement on my part, she
opened the door. The room was dark. We sat down together on the
window-seat, and all at once she relaxed and her head fell on my
shoulder, and she began weeping again. I held her, the alternating moods
still running through me.
"Hugh," she said at length, "how could you be so cruel? when you know I
love you and would do anything for you."
"I didn't mean to be cruel, Maude," I answered.
"I know you didn't. But at times you seem so--indifferent, and you can't
understand how it hurts. I haven't anybody but you, now, and it's in your
power to make me happy or--or miserable."
Later on I tried to explain my point of view, to justify myself.
"All I mean," I concluded at length, "is that my position is a little
different from Perry's and Tom's. They can afford to isolate themselves,
but I'm thrown professionally with the men who are building up this city.
Some of them, like Ralph Hambleton and Mr. Ogilvy, I've known all my
life. Life isn't so simple for us, Maude--we can't ignore the social
side."
"I understand," she said contentedly. "You are more of a man of
affairs--much more than Tom or Perry, and you have greater
responsibilities and wider interests. I'm really very proud of you.
Only--don't you think you are a little too sensitive about yourself, when
you are teased?"