” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. Every rule is against me—Why did I let you begin this? I might have told—” “I don’t see that you could help—” “I might have helped—” “You couldn’t. A boy like John’s dashing friend David Mitchell, someone who shares your love of academics. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone. ’ It was a wait of several minutes while Melusine chafed. “I’m sorry.
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