“Wilfred Pell is a gentleman!” said Elaine. “He is intelligent and good-hearted and decent!”
“Sure!” cried Joe, grinning with an open brow. “He is all that; and I am none of it!—But what does it all signify really, between man and woman?”
Elaine was silent, still angry.
“This is just spinning words,” said Joe, his voice becoming warm. “Why fight against the inevitable, sweetheart? I am your man! You can’t resist me!”
“And you?” she asked.
“You are my woman!” he said with glittering eyes. “Look at me!”
She dragged her eyes up to him, where he stood by the mantelpiece, a tall, muscular figure, displaying himself. He was as finished in appearance as any young man she knew; and he had in addition, the zest which had always tormented her in the faces of vulgar young men. Her eyes grew irresponsible; her face seemed to sharpen.
“Do you doubt it?” he demanded.
She shook her head helplessly.
“Well, then?”