"I have been wanting an opportunity to talk to you--wanting it for
weeks," he said. "But it always seemed----"
"Always seemed that you were thwarted," Irene completed his thought.
"You didn't disguise your annoyance very well the other night."
"Do you blame me for being annoyed?"
"No. But I rather blame you for showing it. You see, I was annoyed
too."
"Then you had nothing to do with--with bringing about the situation
that existed?"
"Certainly not. Surely you do not think that I would--that I would----"
"I beg your pardon, Reenie," said Dave, contritely. "I should have
known better. But it seemed such a strange coincidence."
She was toying with her cup, and for once her eyes avoided him. "You
should hardly think, Dave," she ventured,--"you should hardly conclude
that--what has been, you know, gives you the right--entitles you----"
"To a monopoly of your attentions. Perhaps not. But it gives me the
right to a fair chance to win a monopoly of your attentions." He was
speaking low and earnestly, and his voice had a deep, rich timbre in it
that thrilled and almost frightened her. She could not resent his
straightforwardness. She felt that he was already asserting his claim
upon her, and there was something tender and delightful in the sense of
being claimed by such a man.
"I must have a fair chance to win that monopoly," he repeated. "How
did it happen that Conward was present?"
"I don't know.
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