“So you’d rather one of your men took me to Cousin Seth!”
It was scarcely out before she regretted it with all her heart. If there was a devil behind her tongue there was another back of the somber shadows in Haig’s eyes. He flashed one comprehending look at her; his whole manner underwent a swift and terrifying change; he was again the Philip Haig of that day at the post office.
“Great!” he exclaimed. “That will be the best joke of all. I’ll drive you home myself, of course.”
For a moment Marion sat very still on the soap box, stunned, staring open-mouthed at Haig. What had she done? That mad speech! Then she leaped to her feet.
“No! No!” she cried. “You shall not!”
He smiled at her.
“Shall not?” he repeated sardonically.
“I mean––please not that!” she faltered.
“Why not?” he demanded, almost gaily.
“Oh, please! I didn’t mean it that way.”