“Oh! but, sir, you should; a man who woos unloved is a foolish sight in my eyes.”
Dick slipped his arm round her waist and held her fast; he was beginning to realize that he had at last come up against a will which would not bend before his own, and a wave of uncontrollable anger surged over him; his smile almost vanished for a moment and the knife quivered in his hand.
Anny took his silence as a sign that her words were prevailing with him and determined to play her last card.
“I love another one,” she said softly, drawing away from him as she spoke.
A ripple of laughter burst from the Spaniard’s lips and he held her closer to him.
Hal looked up at the sound with a fierce light in his eyes; he made a step forward, but drew back again almost immediately.
“The lass likes it,” he thought mournfully. “The lass likes it.”
Yet he could not keep his eyes off the two.
Anny pointed to the knife, which was hanging before her, and looked into the dark smiling face so near her own.
“Put by thy knife, sir,” she said pettishly. “It fears me.”