You don't know--you will
never realize--all that Burke has done for me."
"Yes, I do know," Guy said. "But most men would have jumped at the
chance to do the same. You take it all too seriously. It was no
sacrifice to him. You don't owe him anything. He wouldn't have
done it if he hadn't taken a fancy to you. And he didn't do it for
nothing either. He's not such a philanthropist as that."
Somehow that hurt her intolerably. She looked at him with a quick
flash of anger in her eyes. "Do you want to make me hate you?" she
said.
He turned instantly and with a most winning gesture. "No, darling.
You couldn't if you tried," he said.
She went back a step, shaking her head. "I am not so sure," she
said. "Why do you say these horrible things to me?"
He held out his hand to her. "I'm awfully sorry, dear," he said.
"But it is for your good. I want you to see life as it is, not as
your dear little imagination is pleased to paint it. You are so
dreadfully serious always. Life isn't, you know. It really isn't.
It's nothing but a stupid and rather vulgar farce."
She gave him her hand, for she could not deny him; but she gave no
sign of yielding with it. "Oh, how I wish you would take it more
seriously!" she said.
"Do you?" he said. "But what's the good? Who Is it going to
benefit if I do? Not myself.
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