She turned a grateful glance upon him. His steady, reassuring smile seemed to give her a long-needed sense of comfort and protection. In spite of herself, her eyes fell before his, and her cheeks reddened a little.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” she said. “I did it on a dare. A year ago I was unbelievably silly—I’ve learned a great deal in a year. A man dared me—and I did it.”
“I don’t acquit you—quite; but what an egregious cad the man must have been!”
“No, no, don’t think that. He never dreamed I would really dare. But I was determined to show him I wasn’t afraid—wasn’t afraid of anything—not even of him.”
“Of him?”
“Yes.”
“O-oh!” he said slowly. “I see. Well, were you afraid—afterward?”
She swung her hands from behind her back and struck them together with a sudden gesture of anger.
“No, but I hated him. I hate him! Not that he wasn’t game. When I turned to him with that dear flag dangling in my hand, he swept me off in a two-step, flag and all. But he smiled. Oh, how he smiled!” She drew a long breath. “D—— his smile!” Her desperate little oath was only pathetic. “I can see that triumphant twist about the corner of his mouth now, like a crooked scar.”
“Good Lord! Charlie Danton!”