Wait a moment--" He walked hastily through the next room into his small suite of apartments, washed his hands, changed his painter's linen blouse for his street coat, and came back into the dim studio.
"I'm really sorry, Valerie," he said.

"It was rotten rude of me." "So am I sorry.

It's absurd, but I feel like a perfectly unreasonable kid about it....

You never before asked me--and I--wanted to--stay--so much--" "Why didn't you remind me, you foolish child!" "Somehow I couldn't....

I wanted _you_ to think of it." "Well, I'm a chump...." He stood before her in the dim light; she still reclined in the armchair, not looking at him, one arm crook'd over her head and the fingers closed tightly over the rosy palm which was turned outward, resting across her forehead.
For a few moments neither spoke; then: "I'm horridly lonely to-night," she said, abruptly.
"Why, Valerie! What a--an unusual--" "I want to talk to you....