"And so you're going to stick to honesty?" she presently asked, abruptly, her voice still hard. "As tough as it is?"
"Yes," said David, quietly as before.
"And nothing can change you?"
He shook his head.
She continued staring up at him. For an instant faint twitches broke her face's hard surface, but it tightened again. Suddenly, to David's astoundment, she whirled about in her chair, presenting him her back; and he saw a white hand clench and her little body grow rigid. Then suddenly she sprang up, hurled her cigarette box across the room, and turned upon him with a deep gasp, her face convulsed.
"Here I am!" she cried, stretching out to him her open hands. "I tried to get you to come to my way. You wouldn't come. I've come to your way. Here I am!"
This whizzing from one pole to the other was too great a speed for David. "What?" he gasped.
"I lied about New Year's night! I took nothing—not a thing! You wouldn't let me. I've acted to you like a devil. You're not a coward. You did not leave me in Allen's house. I saw you waiting behind the palm. I've tried to keep away from you. I didn't want to give in. But I've come! I've give in! I'll be whatever you want me to be, David!—whatever you want me to be!"
David was not yet at the other pole. "Whatever I want you to be?" he said dazedly.
"Yes! Yes! I'll be honest—be anything!" she answered, breathless. She moved a quick step nearer, and went on in an appealing, breaking voice: "But don't you see, David? Don't you see? I love you! Take me!"