"Major Bethune," she exclaimed, "this is persecution!"
The blood rushed to her cheeks, her eyes flashed. For an instant she was roused to superlative beauty. Stronger became his conviction that here must be more than mere heartless caprice. Something of her emotion gained him.
"If you would only give me a reason!" he cried.
"It is impossible," she answered quickly. "Is it a thing to be asked for so easily, this raking up of the past? The past! is it not dead? My God—it is dead! What if I for one will keep it so?"
"That is no reason," he said cuttingly; "it is hardly an excuse."
She passed by him with long swift steps and a rush of silken draperies. And thus, once more baffled, Baby found him, stonily reflecting. She stopped, promptly discarding her meek admirer.
"No success?"
"No success."
"You had better give it up," said Aspasia.
"I was never more determined not to give it up."