Just like a woman!" sighed Diana.
"But do you think I'm a woman hater?" insisted Enoch.
Diana looked up earnestly. "Please, Mr. Huntingdon, if our friendship
is to ripen, you must not force it."
Enoch's face grew suddenly white. There swept over him with bitter
realism a conception of the falseness of the position into which he was
permitting himself to drift. He answered his own question with an
attempted lightness of tone.
"I can never marry, but I don't hate women."
Diana's chin lifted and Enoch leaned forward quickly. All the aplomb
won through years of suffering and experience deserted him. For the
moment he was again the boy in the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
"Oh, I am stupid, but let me explain. I want you to--"
"Please don't!" said Diana coldly. "I need no warning, Mr. Huntingdon."
"Oh, my dear Miss Allen, you must not be offended! What can I say?"
"You might ask me if it's not time to go home," suggested Diana,
coolly. "You mustn't forget that I'm a wage earner."
Enoch bit his lip and turned to sign the check. Then he followed Diana
to the door. Here they came upon the Indian Commissioner and his wife,
and all opportunity for explanations was gone for the two invited
themselves to walk along to Diana's rooming place.
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