“Would you find me a man easy to care for?” he said again. “I wonder—for I—”
She interrupted: “Sir—I do not think you have failed to find those who would answer that question.”
“Ah, let me speak,” he said gently, “let me say that I do find you made to be loved—”
“Sir! do you usually so play with words with every stranger?” she cried.
“Why, never before,” he smiled, “and are we strangers—did you not say we had one creed—one King—one aim?”
“Ah, I do think you palter with me!” cried Delia with the distress of one drawn and netted against her will. “Mr. Caryl is late—”
“I would he were later,” said Mr. Wedderburn.
“There is no need for me to keep you company,” she answered faintly.
“No need?” His manner flashed into the overbearing. “Not if I ask you to stay?”
“I will go.”