"Ralph!" she gasped furiously, "are you mad? What mean you? How dare you—touch me?"
He stepped back a pace in astonishment.
"Why, Barbara! Barbara!" he cried.
"How dare you touch me?"
"Nay, sweetheart," he pleaded, "I have not really angered you?"
"Angered me!" cried Barbara in desperation; "angered—! Good Heavens! am I gone crazy? What right can you think, can you dream you have, to treat me so?"
"But, Barbara!" cried the amazed man; "did you not say, e'en now, you were one with me in this matter."
"Assuredly. But if I dislike his slander of Monmouth's officers, must it follow that you may treat me thus? For shame, Ralph."
"If you dislike—Barbara! Is't possible you deem we fought for the affair at Sedgemoor?"
"For what else, pray?" she asked indignantly.