She snatched her hand away from his, her eyes shooting sparks of anger.
"I hate you, Ted Holiday. You make me care and then you go away and leave me. You are cruel—selfish. I hate you—hate you."
Ted stared down at her, helpless, miserable, ashamed. No man knows what to do with a scene, especially one which his own folly has precipitated.
"Willis Hubbard is coming down to-morrow night and if you don't stay as you promised I'll go to the Swan with him. He has been teasing me to go for ages and I wouldn't, but I will now, if you leave me. I'll—I'll do anything."
Ted was worried. He did not like the sound of the girl's threats though he wasn't moved from his own purpose.
"Don't go to the Swan with Hubbard, Madeline. You mustn't."
"Why not? You took me."
"I know I did, but that is different," he finished lamely.
"I don't see anything very different," she retorted hotly.
Ted bit his lip. Remembering his own recent aberration, he did not see as much difference as he would have liked to see himself.