"Have I?" She considered him in silence for a moment. "I wonder what you've done to me but make a discontented woman of me—discontented with everything I had before I knew you?"
The change of tone was thrilling to him. He forgot her mockery, forgot his rival, and sat down at her side, almost in possession of her waist. "Look here," he asked, "where are we going to dine to-night?"
His nearness was not agreeable to Undine, but she liked his free way, his contempt for verbal preliminaries. Ralph's reserves and delicacies, his perpetual desire that he and she should be attuned to the same key, had always vaguely bored her; whereas in Van Degen's manner she felt a hint of the masterful way that had once subdued her in Elmer Moffatt. But she drew back, releasing herself.
"To-night? I can't—I'm engaged."
"I know you are: engaged to ME! You promised last Sunday you'd dine with me out of town to-night."
"How can I remember what I promised last Sunday? Besides, after what you've said, I see I oughtn't to."
"What do you mean by what I've said?"
"Why, that I'm imprudent; that people are talking—"
He stood up with an angry laugh. "I suppose you're dining with Chelles.
Is that it?"
"Is that the way you cross-examine Clare?"