Then he broke into a soft laugh that had a note of slyness.
"In my time," said he, "I have seen many attempts to change an inconvenient topic.

Some have been artful; others artless; others utterly clumsy.

But this, I think, is the clumsiest of them all.
Mistress Winthrop, 'tis not worthy in you." She looked puzzled, intrigued by his mood.
"Mistress Winthrop," he resumed, with an entire change of voice.

"To speak of this trifle is but a subterfuge of yours to prevent me from expressing my deep gratitude for your care of me." "Indeed, no--" she began.
"Indeed, yes," said he.

"How can this compare with what you have done for me?
For I have learnt how greatly it is to you, yourself, that I owe my recovery--the saving of my life." "Ah, but that is not true.