Somehow, she had wronged him. She must find out just how, and then he might once more be as she had known him.
Presently it came to her. She should have known that he could not understand the past. He had pretended to, while they had played their foolish game, but when restraint was set aside he showed the deadly truth. She had cheapened herself, cheapened all women—she could not fly now, not until she had made him see the mistake.
Raymond was crossing the room. He laughed, and insanity flashed in his eyes.
"What shall I call you from now on?" he said: "Sylvia?—or shall we make up another name?"
"My name is not Sylvia. And there is to be no time ahead for us."
"You are mistaken. A girl has no right to lead a man on as you have led me, and then run. It isn't the game, my dear. You must not be afraid to play the game."
Raymond reached his hand toward her and said pleadingly:
"Don't be afraid. I hate to see you flinch."
"You must not touch me." Joan's eyes flashed.
"I see. You've raised the devil in me—and you do not want to pay?" The brute was rearing dangerously.