Eve paused on the threshold in astonishment at the sight of the Count de Lloseta and her uncle in grave discourse over a glass of sherry.
“You!” she said. “You here!”
And he wondered why she suddenly lost colour.
“I,” he answered, “I--here to pay my respects.”
Eve gave a little gasp of relief. For a moment she was off her guard--with a dangerous man watching her.
“I thought you had bad news,” she said.
And Cipriani de Lloseta knew that this was a woman whose heart was at sea.
“No,” he answered; “I merely came to quarrel.”
He drew forward a chair, and Eve sat down.
“We shall always quarrel,” he went on, “unless you are kind. Let us begin at once and get it over, because I want to stay to lunch. Will you reconsider your decision with respect to the Val d’Erraha?”