'I found his little note to you.'
'Where?'
'At the foot of the turret stair.'
'And you dared to read it.'
'It was open. Dared!—well, I like that. Let us be friends at least.'
'I have much to pardon in you, Shafto,' said she, remembering the unpleasant trick he had played Hammersley about the cards.
'Let us understand each other, Finella.'
'I thought we did so already,' said she defiantly, and impatiently at his untimely presence; 'surely we have spoken plainly enough before this.'
His face was pale, and there was an expression of mischief in his eyes that startled her. It was mere jealous rage that acted love. He caught her hand, and, fearing him at that moment, she did not withdraw it, but did so eventually and sharply.
'What folly is this?' exclaimed Shafto; 'do not shrink from me thus, Finella, but allow me to make a last appeal to you. I cannot think that you are so utterly changed towards me, but that you are wilfully blinding yourself.'