, and that the end of the
interview, be it what it might, would only affect him superficially.
    »No,« he replied, with deliberation; »I never supposed that you had any
interest in the most foolish class of wealthy people. I meant that you recognise
your place in a certain social rank, and regard intercourse with your equals as
an essential of happiness.«
    »If I understood why you ask« -- she began abruptly, but ceased as she met
his glance. Again he thought she was asserting a distant dignity.
    »The question arose naturally out of a train of thought which always
occupies me when I talk with you. I myself belong to no class whatever, and I
can't help wondering how - if the subject ever occurred to you - you would place
me.«
    He saw his way now, and, having said thus much, could talk on defiantly.
This hour must decide his fortune with Sidwell, yet his tongue utterly refused
any of the modes of speech which the situation would have suggested to an
ordinary mind. He could not make love. Instead of humility, he was prompted to
display a rough arrogance; instead of tender phrases, he uttered what sounded
like deliberate rudeness. His voice was less gently tuned than Sidwell had been
wont to hear it. It all meant that he despaired of wooing successfully, and more
than half wished to force some word from Sidwell which would spare him the
necessity of a plain avowal.
    But before he had finished speaking, her face changed. A light of sudden
understanding shone in her eyes; her lips softened to a smile of exquisite
gentleness.
    »The subject never did occur to me,« she answered. »How should it? A friend
is a friend.«
    It was not strictly true, but in the strength of her emotion she could
forget all that contradicted it.
    »A friend - yes.«
    Godwin began with the same note of bluntness. But of a sudden he felt the
influence of Sidwell's smile. His voice sank into a murmur, his heart leapt, a
thrill went through his veins.
    »I wish to be something more than a friend.«
    He felt that it was bald, inadequate. Yet the words had come of their own
accord, on an impulse of unimpaired sincerity. Sidwell's head was bent.
    »That is why I can't take simple things for granted,« he continued, his gaze
fixed upon her. »If I thought of nothing but friendship, it would seem rational
enough that you should accept me
