"That's—just how your father argued," cried Gordon, in exasperation. And the next moment he could have bitten off his tongue.
Hazel clapped her hands.
"So that was the argument," she cried delightedly. "My daddy in his wisdom thought of me, and you—you being just a big, big chivalrous boy with notions, couldn't see the same way."
Then she sat up, and her eyes grew very serious. That which lay behind them was completely hidden from her companion, as she intended it to be.
Had it been possible for him to have read her approval of himself in her attitude, he now made it beyond question by the sudden wave of heat which swept through his heart.
"I tell you, you've no right to sacrifice yourself," he cried hotly. "Nor has your father——"
"No right? Sacrifice?" Hazel's eyes opened wide, and in their beautiful depths a sparkle of resentment shone. "Who says that?" she demanded. Then in a moment her merry thought banished the clouds of her displeasure. She began to tease. "Why shouldn't I do this? Say, you've roused my curiosity. What's the danger? I—I just love danger. What is the danger I'm running?"
But Gordon's sense of humor was unequal to her teasing on such a subject. He remained sulkily silent.
"I'm waiting," Hazel urged slyly.
Gordon cleared his throat. He glanced up at her a little helplessly. Their eyes met, and somehow he caught the infection of her lurking smile.