“I am going,” she said; “it is your own fault—you have driven me away.”
Her draperies rustled as she moved towards the door, but she did not go far.
“I do not feel so well,” he said quietly; “I believe that I am going to faint.”
She was on her knees by his side again in a moment. For a fainting man, the clasp of his fingers around hers was wonderfully strong.
“I feel better now,” he announced calmly. “I shall be all right if you stay quietly here, and don’t move about.”
She looked at him doubtfully.
“I do not believe,” she said, “that you felt ill at all; you are taking advantage of me!”
“I can assure you that I am not,” he answered; “when you are here I feel a different man.”
“I am quite willing to stay if you will behave yourself,” she said.
“Will you please define good behaviour?” he begged.