"Mabel tells me you want to talk to me," she said evenly "but I
don't want you to. I have something I want to say to you. I
could have written it, but this" -- for an instant the girl
paused with her lips pressed together; when she spoke, her voice
carried the firmness and finality of one delivering a verdict --
"but this," she repeated, "is the last time you shall hear from
me, or see me again."
Winthrop gave an exclamation of impatience, of indignation.
"No," returned the girl, "it is quite final. Maybe you will not
want to see me, but -- "
Winthrop again sharply interrupted her. His voice was filled
with reproach.
"Vera!" he protested.
"Well," said the girl more gently, "I'm glad to think you do,
but this is the last, and before I go, I -- ".
"Go!" demanded Winthrop roughly. "Where?"
"Before I go," continued the girl, "I want to tell you how much
you have helped me -- I want to thank you -- ".
"You haven't let me thank you," broke in Winthrop, "and, now,
you pretend this is our last meeting. It's absurd!".
"It is our last meeting," replied the girl. Of the two, for the
moment, she was the older, the more contained. "On the
contrary," contradicted the man. He spoke sharply, in a tone he
tried to make as determined as her own. "Our next meeting will
be in ten minutes -- at my sister's. I have told her about this
afternoon, and about you; and she wants very much to meet you.
She has sent her car for you.
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