THE TOUCHSTONE
She received this without outward movement, but he saw that the depths were stirred. At length she returned in a hesitating tone, "Why do you call it a false impression? I did know."
"Yes, but I implied you didn't care."
"Ah!"
He still stood looking down on her. "Don't you want me to set that right?" he pursued.
She lifted her head and fixed him bravely. "It isn't necessary," she said.
Glennard flushed with the shock of the retort; then, with a gesture of comprehension, "No," he said, "with you it couldn't be; but I might still set myself right."
She looked at him gently. "Don't I," she murmured, "do that?"
"In being yourself merely? Alas, the rehabilitation's too complete! You make me seem—to myself even—what I'm not; what I can never be. I can't, at times, defend myself from the delusion; but I can at least enlighten others."
The flood was loosened, and kneeling by her he
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