“Let us be frank with each other. Viola is free again. She has served us each a bad turn, yet I believe we have both got over our rage, and love her still. Am I right?”
Philip Desha sighed as he answered:
“You are right.”
“That is what I thought,” answered Florian, sullenly; adding: “I give you fair warning that I intend to woo Viola for the second time.”
A quick flash came to Desha’s blue eyes, and he said, firmly:
“You understand that I shall be your rival?”
“I feared so. You stole her from me once, and no doubt you will do so again, if possible,” Florian replied with bitterness, his lips curling in a sneer.
Desha would have been angry with any one else but Florian, but he understood the young man’s fiery temper and pitied his sorrow, not dreaming of the slight he also had put upon Viola on her wedding-eve.
Gazing reproachfully at the young man, he exclaimed:
“Are you doing me justice, Florian?”