"A friend," she answered, "or an enemy perhaps. What does it matter to you?"
He looked at her steadfastly. She was dressed in white muslin, and she wore a big black hat without any touch of colour. Her clothes were those which her uncle had ordered in New York. She was slim and dainty and elegant, and he found it hard indeed to keep his heart steeled against her.
"How can you ask me that, Virginia?" he replied. "Have you forgotten that I have asked you to marry me?"
"And I have told you that I cannot," she replied desperately. "I cannot and I will not. You have no right to come here and worry me."
"So my coming does worry you?" he asked.
"Yes!" she answered desperately, "you know that it does."
"Virginia," he said, "what is this man's name?"
"It is no concern of yours," she answered.
"Are you in love with him?"
"I shall not tell you," she said.