“Why did you come again?” she asked. “I told you not to come.”
“That is why I came. May I smoke?”
He lit a cigarette before he had received he permission, and after a whiff or two said:
“Is the good man at the club?”
“You know he is at the club,” said Clare. “True. That is another reason why I came. Clare Heywood’s face flushed and her voice trembled a little.
“Gerald, if you had any respect for me——
“Respect is a foolish word,” said Gerald Bradshaw. “Hopelessly old-fashioned. Now adays men and women like or dislike, hate or love.”
“I think I hate you,” said Clare in a low voice.
Gerald smiled at her.
“No, you don’t. You are a little frightened of me. That is all.”