You need not deny it.

You _know_ you hate me." They are now in an angle of the hall where few people come and go, and are, for the moment, virtually alone.
"Who told you that I hated you ?" asks the professor in a peremptory sort of way.
"No," says she, shaking her head, "I shall not tell you that, but I have heard it all the same." "One hears a great many things if one is foolish enough to listen." Curzon's face is a little pale now.

"And--I can guess who has been talking to you." "Why should I not listen?
It is true, is it not ?" She looks up at him.

She seems tremulously anxious for the answer.
"You want me to deny it then ?" "Oh no, _no!"_ she throws out one hand with a little gesture of mingled anger and regret.

"Do you think I want you to _lie_ to me?
There I am wrong.