Something in the girl's tones brought a low laugh from Everett. He came closer to her.
"You're a deliciously pretty child," he bantered. "Won't you take hold of my hands?"
Placing her arms behind her, Flea answered:
"No, I don't like ye!" She backed far from him, her eyes burning with anger.
"You're a very frank little maid, as well as pretty," drawled Everett. "Ever since I first saw you as a girl, I've wanted to know something about you. Who's your father?"
"None of yer business!" snapped Flea.
"Frank again," laughed the lawyer ruefully. "Now, honestly, wouldn't you like to be friends with me?"
"No! I said I didn't like ye, and I don't! I want to go now. You can sit here alone until Sister Ann comes."
She looked so tantalizingly lovely, so lithely young, as she flung the disagreeable words at him, that Brimbecomb impulsively made a step toward her. He was unused to such treatment and manners. That this girl, sprung from some unknown corner, dared to flaunt her dislike in his face, made him only the more determined to conquer her.
"If I wait until Sister Ann comes," he said coolly, "I shall not wait alone. I insist that you stay here with me!"