"Is this a trial of strength between us?" she asked.
"Yes. I mean to keep you from going back to Henry Harmon."
"I have made up my mind," Helen answered.
"So have I," said Wimpole.
"How can you hinder me? You cannot prevent me from sending this letter, nor from going to him if I choose. And I have chosen to go. That ends it."
"You are mistaken. You are reckoning without me, and I will make it impossible."
"You? How? Even if I send this letter?"
"Yes. Come and walk a little, and we can talk. If you insist upon it, drop your letter into the box. But it will only complicate matters, for you shall not go back to Harmon."
Again she looked at him. He had never spoken in this way, during all the years of their acknowledged friendship and unspoken love. She felt that she resented his words and manner, but at the same time that she loved him better and admired him more. He was stronger and more dominant than she had guessed.
"You have no right to say such things to me," she answered. "But I will walk with you for a few minutes. Of course you can hinder me from sending my letter now. I can take it to the post office by and by."