"
"But our friend from Ohio has done his best to impress this upon him,"
I replied, failing to perceive her drift; "and if his words are wasted,
surely the thing is hopeless."
"I am not joking," said she. "I was not thinking of Mr. Trevor, but of
you. I like you, Mr. Crocker. You may not believe it, but I do."
For the life of me I could think of no fitting reply to this declaration.
Why was that abominable word "like" ever put into the English language?
"Yes, I like you," she continued meditatively, "in the face of the fact
that you persist in disliking me."
"Nothing of the kind."
"Oh, I know. You mustn't think me so stupid as all that. It is a
mortifying truth that I like you, and that you have no use for me."
I have never known how to take a jest from a woman. I suppose I should
have laughed this off. Instead, I made a fool of myself.
"I shall be as frank with you," I said, "and declare that I like you,
though I should be much happier if I didn't."
She blushed at this, if I am not mistaken. Perhaps it was unlooked for.
"At any rate," she went on, "I should deem it my duty to warn you of the
consequences of this joke of yours. They may not be all that you have
anticipated. The consequences for you, I mean, which you do not seem to
have taken into account.
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