"I promised your dad," he explained, "that I would not see you after to-day, or call here, or try to make love to you by mail, or annoy you or him in any way until I had wiped the sandwich stain off your surname. I have a month in which to do it, and I promised all that! One month! Not to see you! But—"
He looked at her so hungrily that, born and bred in New York though she was, she blushed hotly and turned her face away. Then she felt the thrill by which victory is made plain to the defeated.
"But—but—" repeated H. R. through his clenched teeth, and took a step toward her.
Whatever she saw in his face made her smile and say, challengingly:
"But what?"
Being very wise, he caught his breath and said, sharply:
"Do what?" she asked, innocently, and kept on smiling.
"I will not see you!"
"You won't?" She ceased to smile, in order to look skeptical.