Here, aghast at Alice's words, I strove to interrupt; but nothing could stop the flow of her eloquence.
"And then, when you say something to him suddenly, he flushes like a girl, though he answers in as cool and measured a tone as usual," she went on calmly. "Your sarcasm hurts him, as no one else has power to do. I can understand George perfectly. What I do not understand is you."
She stopped at last, and waited for me to speak.
"What is it about me that you don't comprehend?" I asked. "I should have said that I was much more transparent than George; and you seem to have discovered the most wonderful things in him. Tell me, as you have been such a close observer, what you have noticed in me, and perhaps I can interpret it for you."
"Well," she began thoughtfully, "I have seen generally a quiet indifference. But," she continued, with her eyes fixed on my face, while a reflective look took possession of her own, "I have seen something else. You have been petulant sometimes, which one never is to a person for whom one feels only indifference. Two or three times I have noticed a look of real pleasure which came into your eyes when George made his appearance unexpectedly. One moment you ignore his presence, and the next you look at and speak to him as if he were the only person in the world."
"Enough!" I exclaimed, putting out my hand imploringly. "You make me out a perfect coquette!"
"Almost," she assented. "I have wondered, once or twice, if you were."
