"Knowing that I didn't wish to see you?"
"Yes. Because I wish to see you."
"What a man's reason!" says she, with a scoffing smile. "I wonder you aren't ashamed of yourself."
"Well, I am sometimes," says Rylton, making an effort to suppress the anger that is rising within him. "I sometimes tell myself, for example, that I must be the meanest hound alive. I know you avoid me—hate me—and yet I come."
"But why—why?" impatiently.
"Because," slowly, "I—do not hate you."
"Don't be a hypocrite," says Tita sharply. She gets up suddenly, pushing back her chair behind her. "Why do you pretend?" says she. "What is to be gained by it? I know we are bound to each other in a sense—bound——" She breaks off. "Ah, that horrid word!" cries she. "Why can we not get rid of it? Why can't we separate? How ridiculous the laws are! You would be as glad to say good-bye to me for ever as I should be to say it to you, and yet——"
"I beg your pardon," says Rylton, interrupting her quickly. "Speak for yourself only. For my part, I have no desire to be separated from you now, or," steadily, "at any other time."
Tita lifts her eyes and looks at him. Their glances meet, and there is something in his that brings the blood to her face.
"I cannot understand you," cries she, with some agitation. "You don't want my money now; you have plenty of your own, and," throwing up her head with a disdainful little gesture, "certainly you don't want me."