Glen was perfectly composed now, and looked Curly steadily in the eyes. She had no intention of parleying with the villain, and the sooner he realised her mettle the better it would be.
"What do you want?" she demanded. "My father is not here, if you wish to see him."
"It's you I want to see," Curly replied with a grin.
"What do you want to see me for?" Glen's words were so cold, firm and business-like that Curly was somewhat taken aback.
"Oh, I just thought I would drop around an' see ye, that's all," he prevaricated.
"Well, you might have saved yourself the trouble, for I don't want to see you."
"Ye don't, eh?" Curly snarled, for the girl's words stung him. "I don't care whether ye do or not. It's not what you want, but what I want."
"What do you mean by those words?"
"I guess ye ought to know. Didn't I tell ye at the dance that I love ye?"
"Love me!" and Glen's eyes flashed. "Do you know the meaning of the word love? I suppose you told the same to many girls you have ruined."