He sat to the table again, as if his part in the discussion were at an end.
Beatrice stood for some moments, then came quickly to his side.
'Wilfrid, have you secrets from me ?' she asked, the tremor of her voice betraying the anguish that her suspicions cost her.

'Say I am ill-mannered.

It was so, at first; I oughtn't to have said anything.

But now it has become something different.

However trifling the matter, I can't bear that you should refuse to treat me as yourself.