a trump--"

"I told him I didn't," she interrupted.

"You couldn't have told him that!" He smiled easily. "There was no
occasion for it. Now tell me exactly what you did say to him."

He could see anger in her eyes--the kind of anger that is at least a
first cousin to hatred.

"I said--"

"The exact words."

The change in his voice made her look at him. His eyes, keen, masterful,
were fixed on hers. They looked hard, yet not altogether ruthless; and
particularly they looked as though they could read thoughts with no
effort, which made it necessary to tell the truth.

"I told him I didn't know," she said. To preserve her self-respect she
sneered.

"What a wonderful girl you are!"

In his eyes she saw a great admiration. She could not tell what it was
this man considered so wonderful; but, whatever it was, he knew
exactly--and she did not!

"If I really loved you, shouldn't I know it?"

"Of course not. You are not the surrendering kind. The others are--born
slaves, diminutive souls, toys, little pets. Souls like yours don't
marry; they mate with an eagle! You will love me as I love you. And then
there is nothing that we, together, cannot do! Nothing!"

She opened her mouth, but he checked her speech by saying, sternly:

"Why do you think it is that, having loved you, I cannot love any one
else? Because I alone know what you are and what you will be! Grace, I
promised your father I would not make love to you until I had deleted
one word from our visiting-cards. It is done; but the month isn't up
quite, and I won't make love to you. That's flat! I can't break my
word."

He looked so determined that naturally she looked away and said, very
softly:

"And--and if I should want you to?"

"You should want me to make love to you, but not to break my word!"

"But you say you love me," she complained.

"Love you!"

It flamed in his eyes and his hand reached for hers; but he checked
himself abruptly. She extended her hand, but he edged away from her. She
drew nearer to him. He retreated to the very edge of the seat. She was
pursuing now. He bit his lip and frowned.

She no longer thought of other things. She knew he could not retreat any
farther. She covered his hand with hers. He suddenly clutched it so
tightly that he hurt her, and that gave her the fierce joy of success in
love as she understood it. She felt like shouting: "Hurt me! Hurt me!
I've got you!" But what she did was to murmur:

"Hendrik!"