“Say too haughty. You are not too poor, for I shan't cost you anything but a gracious word now and then.”
“Unfortunately I don't deal in gracious words, only true ones.”
“I see that.”
“Then suppose you imitate me, and tell me why you came to meet me?”
This question came from her with sudden celerity, like lightning out of a cloud, and she bent her eyes on him with that prodigious keenness she could throw into those steel gray orbs, when her mind put on its full power of observation.
Severne colored a little, and hesitated.
“Come now,” said this keen witch, “don't wait to make up a reason. Tell the truth for once—quick!—quick!—why did you come to meet me?”
“I didn't come to be bullied,” replied supple Severne, affecting sullenness.
“You didn't!” cried the other, acting vast surprise. “Then what did you come for?”
“I don't know; and I wish I hadn't come.”