"No, I don't prefer either," he said with a smile; "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you. That's what I came for."
She walked over to the door and stood by the bell. "Do you wish me to ring?"
"Of course not."
"Will you go?"
"No."
She raised her hand toward the bell, but halted it in midair. Wray noticed her hesitation.
"Wait a moment. Don't be foolish, Rita. I have something to say to you. It wouldn't reflect much credit on either of us for you to send me out. I thought we understood each other. I'm sorry. You said once that you liked me because I was plain-spoken and because I said and did just what came into my head, but you haven't been fair with me."
"What do you mean?"
"Just this: You and I were to speak to each other freely of ourselves and of each other. You said you needed me, and I knew I needed you. We decided it was good to be friends. That was our agreement. You broke it wilfully. You have acted with me precisely as you have acted with a dozen other men. It was lucky I discovered my danger in time. I don't think any woman in the world could do as much with me as you could—if you wanted to. When I like anybody I try to show them that I do. If you were a man I'd give you my hand, or loan you money, or help you in business. I can't do that with you. You're a woman and meant to be kissed. So I kissed you."
She dropped her hands. "Yes, you kissed me, brutally, shamelessly——"