"I've come to take you back," he said arrogantly.
Her spirit rose in instant revolt.
"You might have saved yourself the trouble," she flashed back angrily.
"I'm not coming. I'll return when I've finished my visit to Penelope."
"You'll come back with me now—to-night," he replied doggedly. "We can catch the night mail and I've a car waiting below."
"Then it can wait! Good heavens, Roger! D'you think I'll submit to be made a perfect fool of—fetched back like a child?"
He took a step towards her.
"And do you think that I'll submit to be made a fool of?" he asked in a voice of intense anger. "To be made a fool of by your rushing away from my house in my absence—to have the servants gossiping—not to know what has become of you—"
"I left a note for you," she interrupted. "And you didn't believe what
I told you in it."
"No," he acknowledged. "I didn't. I was afraid . . . Good God, Nan!" he broke out with sudden passion. "Haven't you any idea of what I've been through this last forty-eight hours? . . . It's been hell!"
She looked at him as though amazed.