"What do you mean?"
"If the tale's not to be told--you know what tale--it must be on terms. I won't ask what this chap's been to you, because I believe I know. He's been--a blackguard; that's what he's been to you; and, on my word I believe you women like a man who's a blackguard. But I don't want to talk about that now."
"I shouldn't, especially as I expect mother will be calling me before you've done."
The shade of sarcasm in the girl's tone made the man regard her with knitted brows.
"Never you mind about your mother; I know all about her. For once in your life you'll just listen to me. Mr. Rodney Elmore has gone, vanished from the scene--he's dead; here's this letter to prove it to anyone who doubts it." The speaker grinned. "I'm not dead; I'm alive--very much alive; and I want you to take a particular note of that."
"Do you think I don't know that you're alive?"
Mr. Dale's tone grew suddenly fierce.
"I haven't got Mr. Rodney Elmore's pretty tone, nor his pretty manners, nor his pretty words; but I do care for you." He laughed. "Care for you! Why, I'd eat the dirt you walk on; and you've made me do it more than once. Mabel, if I keep my mouth shut, and get others to keep theirs shut, will you stop treating me as if I were dirt, and treat me as if I were a man?"
"I'll treat you as you like; I'll do whatever you like; I'll be your slave, if--if you do that."
She stood close up against the door, with both hands pressed against her breast, and her words seemed to come from her in gasps. As he saw that in very truth she suffered, his whole bearing underwent a sudden change. He all at once grew tender.