"Is that a Home for strayed cowards?" she cried, springing up and stamping her foot, her eyes flashing indignantly.
"No, it's the best meeting place for us and a safe refuge for quixotic girls."
"They're welcome to it, then. I shan't disturb them. If you wish to make me hate you, you'll persist in all this."
"I'd rather have you hate me than that you should stop here."
"How can you say such a thing as that?"
"Because I mean it; every syllable of it, Nessa, on my honour."
This appeared to make some impression. She winced and paled slightly. "I've never been thought a coward before," she said after a pause, but without so much of the former snap.
"What I do think is that if what you talk of doing is cowardice, I'd rather be thought a coward than anything else."
"That means that you approve of it then?"
"On the contrary. Don't let us get at cross purposes. I must be off to this job. The thing is this. If I'm alone here, I can get through everything without risk; and I can't if you stop. It's splendid of you to wish to stick it with me; but it'll be fatal to me; fatal to both of us, indeed."