And his gloom weighed heavily upon her.

"You don't mind, do you, Monty," she added, more softly, "this sort of thing from me?
I know I ought not to interfere, but I've known you so long.
And I hate to see things twisted by a very little mistake." But Monty did mind enormously.

He had no desire to talk about the thing anyway, and Peggy's anxiety to marry him off seemed a bit unnecessary.
Manifestly her own interest in him was of the coldest.

From out of the gloom he looked at her somewhat sullenly.

For the moment she was thinking only of his pain, and her face said nothing.
"Peggy," he exclaimed, finally, resenting the necessity of answering her, "you don't in the least know what you are talking about.