"Were you expecting me?" he asked. "I would sell my soul to believe that you were—with that look in your eyes."
She shook her head impatiently.
"I was not," she answered. "I was expecting no one. It is very warm in here—that is all."
He looked disappointed.
"Have you ever expected me?" he questioned, moodily—"or thought of me when I was not with you?"
She smiled. "Oh yes!" she returned, lightly. "When I had a note from you saying that you were coming."
He set his teeth.
"You are as cruel as a—a devil, or a woman," he said.
"What you call cruelty," she answered, gently, "is merely a weapon which we sometimes thrust too far. When you talk to me in this way, you force me to use it." And she added, flippantly, "Some day I may thrust it to your heart."
"I wish to God you would!"