"That's enough."
"And asked us to call. And if we couldn't come together, I might call alone," she spoke quickly. Her eyes were mocking. An oath from Brander seemed to amuse her.
"You're in love with him," he muttered, his fingers tightening about her wrist. "Come, out with it! I want to know."
"Yes." Rachel's eyes grew taunting. "He is the knight in shining armor, fairy prince, and the man in the moon."
"Never mind laughing. I want to know."
"Well, listen then." Her voice grew vibrant as if a laugh were talking. "His eyes are the beckoning hands of dream. Poor Frank doesn't know what that means."
Brander swung her toward the couch. She fell amid the cushions with a laugh. He stood looking at her and then walked slowly.
"Don't touch me. Don't you dare!"
A grin crossed the artist's face.
"I know you and your kind," he answered, "mooney girls. Mooney-headed girls. I've had 'em before."