Her face drew near to Dorothy's as she spoke, and the girl could feel her hot breath on her cheek. But Dorothy had a brave heart of her own and did not flinch. For all she knew, Lola might intend to stab her at the very minute. The Park keeper was some distance away, and it was useless to create a scandal by calling him to her assistance. Lola was just the kind of mad creature to make a scene. Retaining control of herself, though her heart was beating rapidly, Dorothy fixed her eyes firmly on those of Lola. "Sit a little further away," she said, "and we will talk calmly."
"Are you not afraid?" asked Lola, surprised. She had always found the savage attitude so effective.
Dorothy laughed. "I was never afraid of anything or of any one in my life," she said coolly. "And I am not going to begin now. What do you want, mademoiselle? Why do you threaten me?"
"Bah!" cried the other, but moving back a little as requested, "you know, you blond white cat, you. It is George."
"What about George?"
"He is mine. He loves me. You would take him from me."
"If you are speaking of George Brendon----"
"Of who else should I speak? You know--ah, you know!"
"Yes. I know. I heard some rumors as to how he helped you. But I do not believe for one moment that he loves you."
"He does. You dare ask that he loves."