She looked at me straight and hard.
"You've no right to ask me that," she said.
* * * * *
Well, perhaps I hadn't. And if I had owned frankly that I hadn't all might have been well. But, as it was, before I knew where we both were, we had quarrelled.
Yes. I quarrelled with Viola; or she quarrelled with me; it really doesn't matter how you put it; and it shows the awful tension we must have been living in.
When I heard her say that I had no right to ask her that question I answered that I thought I had.
She said, "What right?"
And I said if she would think a little she would see what right.
And at that she fired up and the blaze was awful. We two were up there alone and she had me at her mercy. She held me in the blaze.
"I suppose," she said, "I'm to think of your everlasting meddling with my affairs?"