"But of course I thought you were the lucky man.

I still half believe you are!" "Well, I'm not." "Do you mean to say that she's refused you too ?" "She hasn't had the chance." Bob's eyes opened to an infantile width.
"But you told me you were in earnest!" he urged.
"As much in earnest as you were, I believe was what I said." "That's the same thing," returned Bob, sharply.

"You may not think it is.

I don't care what you think.

But I'm very sorry you said you were in earnest if you were not." And his tone convinced me that he was no longer commiserating himself; he was sorry on some new account, and the evident reality of his regret filled me in turn with all the qualms of a guilty conscience.
"Why are you sorry ?" I demanded.
"Oh, not on my own account," said Bob.