"I don't understand you," said Agatha coldly. "It is late. I wish to go in."
"Not too late, however, for you to see your lover!"
"Dr. Darkham! This is not the first time you have spoken to me like this. I must ask you to let it be the last. For you to dictate to me on any subject is impertinence," she said haughtily. "I am sure you must see it. I am nothing to you, and you are, if possible, less to me."
"You are wrong there!" He took a step nearer to her, and the girl set her teeth hard. If he were to touch her! At this moment the moon came out from behind a cloud and showed her his face— dark, determined, passionate. "You are all the world to me. Life itself! Do you hear? Do you understand? You are my very life! And a man fights hard for his life. I shall fight hard," he said.
"It is bad to fight for failure," said she. Her hands were icy cold now, but her face was impassive. "I hope you will go away now. My aunt, as you know, is not in, and—-"
"Did Dillwyn know that too—that your aunt was not in? Do you think he would have come here if he had not known it?"
"I am sure he would," said the girl. There was a change in her voice as she spoke of him, a sudden tenderness, a glad delight. The man listening noticed it, and it maddened him the more.
"You—-" He stopped short, as if to complete the sentence was beyond him. His voice was thick, uncertain. "You will tell me next," said he, leaning forward and gazing at her threateningly, "that you love him!"
"Yes; I love him!"
Darkham burst into a wild laugh.