"Thank you," stiffly.
"I thought you had forgiven my—my folly," she goes on further, with a killing glance from the long-lashed, seraphic-blue eyes.
"I hope I have," he replies, still coldly.
"Then why—why will you refuse my request?" she asks.
Something like scorn flashes on her from the man's sapphire-blue eyes.
"Miss Langton, I have forgiven the indignity you put upon me last summer," he answers, shortly, "but do you think I could stoop to serve you—you?"
The heiress colors under his glance of haughty scorn.
"You will never forget that," she sighs. "You will not believe how eager I am to make atonement for my sin against you. I see you are determined to be hard and cold with me. You will not make friends."
Vane turns round upon her a little fiercely.
"What are you driving at, Maud?" he asks, with positive rudeness. "Do you wish to make a fool of me again? To win my heart from me again and trample it under your feet?"