"You're daring a good deal—to taste life. You're testing your line; making it prove itself—I haven't dared!"
Joan did not speak, and her small hands were as quiet as little dead hands in the strong ones which held them.
"Does it pay—the daring, the testing?" Raymond's eyes, dark and unfaltering, tried to pierce the veil.
"Yes—I think so."
"You make me want to try—do you dare me?"
"It does not interest me at all what you do." Joan was like ice now. "You evidently misunderstand our play here. Let go of my hands!"
"I haven't finished yet. You've got to hear me out."
"Let go of my hands!"
"All right—but will you stay here?"
"I'll stay until I want to go."