“Will you allow me to take you back to your aunt?” he asked.
“No!” she answered. “My aunt is quite happy without me, and I should prefer to remain here.”
He sat down, fuming.
“Penelope, what do you mean by it?” he demanded.
“And what do you mean by asking me what I mean by it?” she replied. “You haven’t any especial right that I know of.”
“I wish to Heaven I had!” he answered with a noticeable break in his voice.
There was a short silence. She turned away; she felt that she was suddenly surrounded by a cloud of passion.
“Penelope,” he pleaded,—
She stopped him.
“You must not say another word,” she declared. “I mean it,—you must not.”