a little laugh. "I wish you would say something quietly stinging. I deserve it for going off in that way again. Still, I really felt it."
"Do you think I could?" and Grace's tone was severe.
Ingleby was even more contrite than she expected. "It was absurd to suggest it. You could never say an unkind or cutting thing to anybody. In fact, your kindness is the one pleasant memory I shall carry away with me. I--you see----"
He pulled himself up abruptly, but the colour was in his cheeks, and the little thrill in his voice again, while it seemed only natural that the girl should smile prettily.
"I wonder," she said, "if one might ask you why you are going?"
The lane was growing dusky now, and Grace, as it happened, held a white glove and a fold of the silvery grey skirt in an uncovered hand, for the dew was settling heavily upon the grass between the wheel ruts. Ingleby did not look at her.
"I don't think I could make you understand how sordid and distasteful my life here