uspect you of intentional impertinence, you are now too chastened to
suspect that I came back to give you this chance. That is quite true,
isn't it?"

"Of course. You _are_ generous and--it's simply fine of you to overlook
it."

"I don't know whether I intend to overlook it; I was surprised and
disappointed; but I _did_ desire to give you another chance. And I was
so afraid you'd be rude enough to take it that--I spoke first. That was
logical. Oh, I know what I'm doing--and it's particularly common of
me--being who I am--"

She paused, meeting his gaze deliberately.

"You don't know who I am. Do you?"

"No," he said. "I don't deserve to. But I'll be miserable until I do."

After a moment: "And you are not going to ask me--because, once, I said
that it was nice of you not to?"

The hint of mockery in her voice edged his lips with a smile, but he
shook his head. "No, I won't ask you that," he said. "I've been beastly
enough for one day."

"Don't you care to know?"

"Of course I care to know."

"Yet, exercising all your marvellous masculine self-control, you nobly
refuse to ask?"

"I'm afraid to," he said, laughing; "I'm horribly afraid of you."

She considered him with clear, unsmiling eyes.

"Coward!" she said calmly.

He nodded his head, laughing still. "I know it; I almost lost you by
saying 'Calypso' a moment ago and I'm taking no more risks."

"Am I to infer that you expect to recover me after this?"

And, as he made no answer: "You dare not admit that you hope to see me
again. You _are_ horribly afraid of me--even if I have defied convention
and your opinions and have graciously overlooked your impertinence. In
spite of all this you are still afraid of me. Are you?"

"Yes," he said; "as much as I naturally ought to be."

"_That_ is nice of you. There's only one kind of a girl of whom men are
really afraid.... And now I don't exactly know what to do about
you--being, myself, as guilty and horrid as you have been."

She regarded him contemplatively, her hands joined behind her back.

"Exactly what to do about you I don't know," she repeated, leisurely
inspecting him. "Shall I tell you something? I am not afraid to; I am
not a bit cowardly about it either. Shall I?"

"If you dare," he said, smiling and uncertain.

"Very well, then; I rather like you, Mr. Hamil."

"You _are_ a trump!" he blurted out, reddening with surprise.

"Are you astonished that I know you?"

"I don't see how you fou