"It
is beyond endurance!" he said to himself.
The truth had served its purpose by this time. I affected not to have
heard him. "Did you speak to me?" I asked.
He used a milder form of expression. "It is most unfortunate," he said.
"I must immediately send back the valuable book which Mr. Winterfield
has lent to me. And that is not the worst of it. There are other volumes
in his library which I have the greatest interest in consulting--and it
is impossible for me to borrow them now. At this time, too, when I have
lost Penrose, I had hoped to find in Winterfield another friend who
sympathized with my pursuits. There is something so cheering and
attractive in his manner--and he has just the boldness and novelty of
view in his opinions that appeal to a man like me. It was a pleasant
future to look forward to; and it must be sacrificed--and to what? To a
woman's caprice."
From our point of view this was a frame of mind to be encouraged. I
tried the experiment of modestly taking the blame on myself. I
suggested that I might be (quite innocently) answerable for Romayne's
disappointment.
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