"Georgie"
"Wait," Anne said, with a curious choking sound in her throat.
"Georgie," she said, "you mustn't mind my laughing at you. You do rather lend yourself to it, don't you? And I really do want you to be happy. About Diana. Don't put her love to any severe test if you can help it. I'm afraid it wouldn't make much of a show beside her principles and her strong sense of duty. If I were you I wouldn't tell her about—well, about me." Her voice broke.
Georgie, always soft-hearted, turned quickly and stared at her face in the fading light. Her brown eyes, usually so quiet and critical, were full of tears.
"Don't, Anne." He laid his hand on her arm. "Don't, for goodness sake. I'm a brute, I know I am. I'm not worth it. I—"
"No." Anne's dark eyes met his troubled blue ones. "I don't think you are."
He flushed.
"But I'm not quite such a hound as
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