“Really, Mr. Wylde, when you want to flirt with factory girls you should not choose such a public place, especially when the girl you are engaged to is close at hand.”
He started backward as if shot, and Pansy sprang from the hammock with a shriek:
“It is false!”
Juliette Ives laughed scornfully, and replied:
“Ask him. He will not deny it.”
Pretty Pansy, with a face that had grown white as a lily, turned to Norman Wylde.
“Is it true? Are you engaged to her?” she demanded sharply.
“Yes, but——”
“That is enough!” interrupted Pansy, with flashing eyes. She would not let him finish his sentence, so keen was her resentment at his trifling, as she deemed it; and, looking scornfully at him, she said:
“Never presume to speak to me again, sir!”