"Or, perhaps, it's what have I not done ?" "Or perhaps," he retorted, "it's what you are going to do." "Oh!" "Miss Reid, I am going to ask you a favor--a great favor." "Yes ?" "You have known me now almost a year." "Yes." "And, yet, to be exact, you do not know me at all." She did not answer, but looked at him steadily.
"And that, in a way," he continued, "makes it easy for me to ask the favor; that is, if you feel that you can trust me ever so little--trust me, I mean, to the extent of believing me sincere." "I know that you are sincere, Patches," she answered, gravely.
"Thank you," he returned.

Then he said gently, "I want you to let me talk to you about what is most emphatically none of my business.

I want you to let me ask you impertinent questions.

I want you to talk to me about"-- he hesitated; then finished with meaning--"about your career." She felt his earnestness, and was big enough to understand, and be grateful for the spirit that prompted his words.
"Why, Patches," she cried, "after all that your friendship has meant to me, these past months, I could not think any question that you would ask impertinent Surely you know that, don't you ?" "I hoped that you would feel that way.

And I know that I would give five years of my life if I knew how to convince you of the truth which I have learned from my own bitter experience, and save you from--from yourself." She could not mistake his earnestness and in spite of herself the man's intense feeling moved her deeply.
"Save me from myself ?" she questioned.