"May I come in?" he asked.
Here was the unexpected again, but she did not allow him to see her
surprise.
"Yes," she said. "Certainly you may."
He swung in and then turned to speak to her.
"Please shut the door and lock it," he said.
There was sudden illumination in this, but of an order almost whimsical.
That modern people in modern days should feel bolts and bars a necessity
of ordinary intercourse was suggestive. She was plainly about to receive
enlightenment. She turned the key and followed the halting figure across
the room.
"What are you afraid of?" she asked.
"When mother and I talk things over," he said, "we always do it where no
one can see or hear. It's the only way to be safe."
"Safe from what?"
His eyes fixed themselves on her as he answered her almost sullenly.
"Safe from people who might listen and go and tell that we had been
talking."
In his thwarted-looking, odd child-face there was a shade of appeal not
wholly hidden by his evident wish not to be boylike. Betty felt a desire
to kneel down suddenly and embrace him, but she knew he was not prepared
for such a demonstration. He looked like a creature who had lived
continually at bay, and had learned to adjust himself to any situation
with caution and restraint.
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