"Dislike—oh no, but I do not love you."
"And you could never do so?"
The girl paused in her walk and faced the young soldier. "This conversation is distasteful to me, Lieutenant Mozara. If you will have an answer, it is that I could never look upon you except as a friend."
A look of anger came into Mozara's narrow eyes.
"That sounds final," he said rather nastily; "there is some one else, then?"
"You have no right to say that," and Galva thought again of a certain nobleman and of delightful rides in the glades of Fontainebleu.
"Pardon me, Miss Baxendale, I have offended you."
"Offended—no, but I am afraid you have put a stop to a very pleasant friendship. These walks will be impossible now, won't they?"
The girl smiled a sad little smile and went on: "I have some shopping to do, lieutenant, and that street up there looks promising. Do you know, a woman can tell a shop miles away."
She held out her hand, and in a moment she was gone, leaving Lieutenant Gaspar Mozara with anger in his heart.