He half turned away, but she uttered a cry that stopped him. She seemed on the point of flinging herself at his feet.
“Great Scott!” gasped Merry. “I hope she isn’t going to make a scene of that sort! It would be too much!”
“Don’t—don’t leave me just yet!” she entreated.
“I must,” he firmly answered.
“Stop!” she exclaimed, her eyes beginning to flash. “You cannot scorn me—you shall not! I have cast my pride aside, and I have exposed myself to your ridicule—all for what?”
“Nothing.”
The word seemed like a blow. For a moment he fancied she was about to pour a torrent of angry words upon him, but something entirely different happened. With a low, queer cry, she sprang forward, attempting to fling her arms about his neck!
“I love you!” she panted.
He grasped her wrists and held her off.
“You are crazy!” he exclaimed.