“I’ve a mind to take part payment now,” said he, intercepting the hand before she could withdraw it. 183
“If you can, sir!” whisking it loose, and darting around a table.
“A challenge, is it? Oh, very well!” and he sprang after.
With a swift movement, she swept up her skirts and fled—around chairs, and tables, across rugs, over sofas and couches—always manœuvring to gain the doorway, yet always finding him barring the way;—until, at last, she was forced to refuge behind a huge davenport, standing with one end against the wall.
“Now, will you surrender?” he demanded, coming slowly toward her in the cul de sac.
She shook her head, smiling the while.
“I’ll be merciful,” he said. “It is five steps, until I reach you—One!—Will you yield?”
“No!”
“Two!—will you yield?”
“No!”