"Yes, of course! But I—I've never trusted since."
"You are really a great coward, Mr. Lindaberry!"
She said it impulsively—yet, once said, resolved to stand by her guns, feeling now threefold the anger and irritation he had awakened in her at their first meeting.
He shifted in his seat, amazed.
"You give up at your first defeat—let a woman who isn't worth a candle wreck your life!"
"By Jove!"
"Pride? You talk of pride and courage! You haven't a drop of either," she continued hotly. "So you'll give her just what she wants, the satisfaction of seeing how you cared! Yes, what a delicious revenge you give her! I'm a woman—I know! She hates you, and she sits back smiling, waiting for the end, saying to herself: 'I did it!' No; I have no patience with such weakness! You are nothing but a great coward!"
She stopped, surprised at a sob that arose, unbidden, in her throat. He gazed ahead, without answering, a long while, his fingers playing on the wheel.
"That's rather rough!" he said at last.
"You deserve every bit of it!"