What does it matter what they think?
Not that they're likely to bother their heads about us any more than we do about them." "You don't know that." "I certainly don't care," declared my lordly youth, with obvious sincerity.

"No, I was only thinking of poor old George Kennerley and people like him, if there are any.

I did care what he thought, that is until I saw he was as mad as anything on the subject.

It was too silly.
I tell you what, though, I'd value your opinion!" And he came to another stop and confronted me again, but this time such a picture of boyish impulse and of innocent trust in me (even by that faint light) that I was myself strongly inclined to be honest with him on the spot.

But I only smiled and shook my head.
"Oh, no, you wouldn't," I assured him.
"But I tell you I would!" he cried.