It makes misunderstandings very possible. Suppose she
thought I made friends with her in the hope of getting round to the
other again? You see how difficult it is to judge her behaviour--
to come to any conclusion."
"Yes, I see," Warburton let fall, musingly.
"And, even if I were sure of understanding _her_--there's myself.
Look at the position, now. I suppose I may call myself a successful
man; well on the way to success, at all events. Unless fortune plays
me a dirty trick, I ought soon to be making my three or four
thousand a year; and there's the possibility of double that. Think
what that means, in the way of opportunity. Once or twice. when I
was going to see the Crosses, I've pulled myself up and asked what
the deuce I was doing--but I went all the same. The truth is,
there's something about Bertha--I wish you knew her, Warburton; I
really wish you did. She's the kind of girl any man might marry.
Nothing brilliant about her--but--well, I can't describe it. As
different as could be from--the other. In fact, it isn't easy to
see how they became such close friends. Of course, she knows all
about me--what I'm doing, and so on. In the case of an ordinary
girl in her position, it would be irresistible; but I'm not at all
sure that _she_ looks at it in that way. She behaves to one--well,
in the most natural way possible. Now and then I rather think she
makes fun of me."
Warburton allowed a low chuckle to escape him.
"Why do you laugh?--I don't mean that she does it disagreeably.
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