"Quite the wrong one, no doubt. I was in no humour for going on my knees. But she knew right enough that I wouldn't have risked refusal, unless I was very keen on the dance."
"All the same, you will give her another chance. You must. No act of folly on her part can make it right for you to leave her in such a false position."
"The position was her own choice,—not mine."
"One could guess as much. Yet the fact remains that she is—yours, to make or mar: and it seems to me no less than your duty to pocket your pride, and save her from her own foolishness in spite of herself."
Lenox drew an audible breath, like a man in pain.
"You do know how to hit between the eyes," he said very low. "But—I have suffered enough at her hands."
"And has she suffered nothing—at yours?"
Honor's voice was scarcely louder than his own, and her pulses throbbed at her own daring. Lenox stood stock-still, and looked at her.
"Upon . . my . . soul," he said slowly, "you are a stunning woman!
I . . ."
"Please don't think I meant you to answer such a question," she broke in hurriedly, with flaming cheeks.