Publisher's Synopsis
"All right--I'll tell you why, fast enough." His tone was grim. "I'm going to leave the country because I can't stay any longer--not while you're in it." "Why--Kent!" She seemed inexpressibly shocked. "I don't know," he went on relentlessly, "what you think a man's made of, anyhow. And I don't know what _you_ think of this pal business; I know what I think: It's a mighty good way to drive a man crazy. I've had about all of it I can stand, if you want to know." "I'm sorry, if you don't--if you can't be friends any longer," she said, and he winced to see how her eyes filled with tears. "But, of course, if you can't--if it bores you--" Kent seized her arm, a bit roughly, "Have I got to come right out and tell you, in plain English, that I--that it's because I'm so deep in love with you I can't. If you only knew what it's cost me this last year--to play the game and not play it too hard! What do you think a man's made of? Do you think a man can care for a woman, like I care for you, and--Do you think he wants to be just pals? And stand back and watch some drunken brute abuse her--and never--here!" His voice grew testier. "Don't do that--don't! I didn't want to hurt you--God knows I didn't want to hurt you!" He threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him. "Don't--pal, I'm a brute, I guess, like all the rest of the male humans. I don't mean to be--it's the way I'm made. When a woman means so much to me that I can't think of anything else, day or night, and get to counting days and scheming to see her--why--being friends--like we've been--is like giving a man a teaspoon of milk and water when he's starving to death, and thinking that oughta do. But I shouldn't have let it hurt you. I tried to stand for it, little woman. There were times when I just had to fight myself not to take you up in my arms and carry you off and keep you.
