"Haven't I borne with you long enough?" he said. "Can't you come to the point?"
She shook her head slightly. Her trembling had not wholly ceased. She was not—even yet she was not—wholly sure of him.
"Afraid?" he questioned.
And she answered him meekly, with bowed head. "Yes, Nick; afraid."
"Don't you think you might look me in the face if you tried very hard?" he suggested.
"No, Nick." She almost shrank at the bare thought.
"Oh, but you haven't tried," he said.
His voice sounded very close. She knew he was bending down. She even fancied she could feel his breath upon her neck.
Her head sank a little lower. "Don't!" she whispered, with a sob.
"What are you afraid of?" he said. "You weren't afraid to send me a message. You weren't afraid to save my life last night. What is it frightens you?"