"Not come back? What on earth are you talking about?"
"It might mean that I could get free—begin over again…"
He had pushed his seat back with a sudden jerk and cut her short by striking his palm on the arm of the chair.
"For the Lord's sake. Undine—do you know what you're saying?"
"Oh, yes, I know." She gave him back a confident smile. "If I can get away soon—go straight over to Paris…there's some one there who'd do anything… who COULD do anything…if I was free…"
Mr. Spragg's hands continued to grasp his chair-arms. "Good God, Undine Marvell—are you sitting there in your sane senses and talking to me of what you could do if you were FREE?"
Their glances met in an interval of speechless communion; but Undine did not shrink from her father's eyes and when she lowered her own it seemed to be only because there was nothing left for them to say.
"I know just what I could do if I were free. I could marry the right man," she answered boldly.
He met her with a murmur of helpless irony. "The right man? The right man? Haven't you had enough of trying for him yet?"
As he spoke the door behind them opened, and Mr. Spragg looked up abruptly.