then—well—I don't suppose you mean any thing particular by that," he added, to comfort himself. "You don't mean that you—" He stopped.
Fanny nodded slowly, and the blush that rose in her face reddened her sunny complexion.
"Yes. That's what I mean. I cared for him, you know,—that sort of thing."
"It hasn't taken you long to get over it, at all events," answered Lawrence, gravely, and wondering inwardly why she made the extraordinary confession, seeing that it hurt him and could do her no good.
"No—it hasn't taken long, has it? That's what frightens me. If I weren't frightened, I shouldn't talk to you about it."
"I don't understand—why are you frightened? Especially since you've got over it. I don't see—"
"I thought you might," said Fanny, enigmatically.
A long silence followed, this time. Lawrence crossed his hands on his knees as Fanny was doing, holding his pipe, which was going out.
