Gibbon."
"Well?"
"I think it is a pity."
"Why?"
"I think you might love some one else."
"No! I want you."
"You can't have me," said Deleah, pettishly, and feeling more hopelessly
inadequate than ever.
"I can," Gibbon said, and he said it quite fiercely. "I can! I can! I can!
Do you hear?"
"I think I will go to bed." Deleah sprang up; she so longed for flight;
she looked anxiously to the closed door which was on his side of the
table.
Gibbon also rose to his feet. "Look at me, Deleah," he said. She looked,
and saw the paleness of his face. It made her sick as well as sorry to see
how pale the man had become. "Does this mean Mr. Reginald Forcus?"
"Certainly not!"
"You are not engaged to him?"
"Certainly not!"
"Look at me; keep on looking." His eyes held hers, she was compelled to
look. "Do you like him better than me? He is the best chance, out and out;
but for all that he mayn't be the best man. Do you like him the best?"
"I don't know that I do."
"Now. I've something else to ask you."
"No! I think you are too bad. I am very tired. Let me go to bed, Mr.
Gibbon."
"Answer me first. How about the other one?"
"The _other_ one! I don't know what you mean.
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