“He is strong because he is good,” said Clare. “I will call him now.”
She went quickly toward the bell.
“You needn’t call him,” said Gerald Bradshaw. “I would dislike to hurt the little man.”
“You are going?” asked Clare.
“Yes, I am going,” said the man, “because something has changed in you.”
Clare gave a cheerful little laugh.
“You are right.”
“I see that now. I have lost my spell over you. Something has broken.”
“Are you going,” said Clare sternly, “or shall I call my man?”
“I am going, Clare,” said the man at the window. “I am going to find another mate. She and I will talk evil of you, and hate you, as I hate you now. Farewell, foolish one!” He withdrew from the window, and instantly Clare rushed to it, shut it and bolted it. Then she pulled down the blind, and stood, panting, with her back to it and her arms outstretched.