"I tore it up," she said.
"What for?" said Noel.
Her eyes gleamed momentarily. "I was angry."
"Angry with me?" he questioned.
"Yes."
"Does it make you angry to know that a man cares for you?" he said.
Her eyes fell before the sudden fire that kindled in his with the words.
"Don't!" she said rather breathlessly. "Please don't!"
"You ought to be sorry for me," he whispered, "not angry."
She turned her face aside. "Of course—that—would not make me angry. Only—only—you had no right to—to send me—a present—a valuable present."
"And if I didn't?" said Noel.