"Where are you going?" he inquired, following her and taking hold of her hand.
"I am going down stairs, Mr. Desmond," she replied coldly, and trying to wrench her hand away.
"Are you offended at my plain speaking?" he inquired, trying to look into her flashing eyes. "Surely you are aware that you are beautiful?"
"If I am, it does not become you to tell me so, sir," she replied, resentfully. "Such compliments belong to your wife."
"My wife is a beautiful woman, but not half so beautiful as you are, little Mary," he replied, still keeping a tight hold on her hand.
"Mr. Desmond, let me go," she pleaded, the angry tears crowding into her soft blue eyes, "I will not listen to such words from you. You are cruel and unkind. What would Mrs. Desmond say if she could see you?"
He started uneasily, then laughed.
"She would say I was only teasing you, as I was," he replied. "Believe me, Mary, I was only joking you. I did not think that you would take it as earnest or become angry. Say that you forgive me, fair one, and I will release you."
"Let go my hand, I forgive you," Golden replied, glad to be released on any terms, and shrinking from him with an utter loathing and horror.
"Thank you for your pardon," he cried, laughingly. "You must seal the sweet pledge with a kiss, my lovely girl."