“I won’t?” he said, laughing boisterously, looking down into her eyes that were so close to his. “That’s a good one! You think you can change me, do you? Well, you’ll see!”
He let go of her, and was starting toward the door when she said quickly,
“You’re right—do as you please.”
“Of course I shall,” he said angrily. Then a new thought seemed to strike him. He hesitated, came back on tiptoe, and said, with a curious smile:
“Aren’t you just a little bit afraid of me?”
“No; I am not afraid of you,” she said, and she kept her eyes on his so intently that, in a moment, his glance went away.
“Well, I’ll tell you something,” he said, in a whisper; “I am afraid of myself.”
He allowed her, without further resistance, to take his hat and draw off his coat.
At this moment, the sound of voices and the crashing chords of a piano broke in incongruously upon their mood.
“What’s that?” he said, startled.