"Oh, I say!" said Lord Ronald. He got up awkwardly, and stood behind her. "Please don't take it to heart," he urged. "I shouldn't have told you, only—you know—you asked. And it wouldn't make any difference, on my honour it wouldn't. Won't you take my word for it, and give me a trial?"
"No," she said.
"Why not?" he persisted. "Don't you think you are rather hard on me? I shall never take a single inch more than you care to allow."
She turned upon him suddenly. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes were wet, but she no longer cared about his seeing these details.
"What did you mean?" she demanded unexpectedly, "by saying to me that those fight hardest who fight in vain?"
He was not in the least disconcerted.
"I meant that though you might send me about my business you would not quite manage to shake me off altogether."
"Meaning that you would refuse to go?" she asked, with a quiver that might have been anger in her voice.
"Meaning," he responded quietly, "that though you might deny me yourself, it might not be in your power to deny me the pleasure of serving you."
"And is it not in my power?" she asked swiftly.