" Grant interrupted her. "Go right ahead and hate
me, if you feel that way. It won't matter to me--girls never did
concern me much, one way or the other. I never was susceptible
to beauty, and that seems to be a woman's trump card, always--"
"Well, upon my word!"
"Sounds queer, does it? But it's the truth, and so what's the
use of lying, just to be polite? I won't torment you any more;
and if the boys rig up too strong a josh, I'm liable to give you
a hint beforehand. I'm willing to do that--my sympathies are
always with the under dog, anyway, and they're five to one. But
that needn't mean that I'm--that I--" He groped for words that
would not make his meaning too bald; not even Grant could quite
bring himself to warn a girl against believing him a victim of
her fascinations.
"You needn't stutter. I'm not really stupid. You don't like me
any better than I like you. I can see that. We're to be as
decent as possible to each other--you from 'common humanity,' and
I because I promised Aunt Phoebe.
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