” “No,” he said, and tried again: “but I must tell you quite definitely that I feel it to be my duty to forbid any such exploit. She took a deep breath. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. So these two young philosophers got along very well that day; and the succeeding days. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend.
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