"Under lock and key, yes."
"All right," he said, reddening; "only I supposed I could be frank with you."
"Are we actually on any such footing?" she asked quietly.
"I thought so—even a footing on which I permit myself to accept such a rebuke from you."
She turned in her saddle.
"Permit yourself?" she repeated. "Do you mean condescend?"
"I mean what I say," he retorted sulkily, still smarting under her rebuke.
Her cheeks were bright with anger, her lips compressed as though silence had become an effort. Presently, however, she looked across at him with perfect sweetness and composure.
"No, you don't mean what you say, Jim. If you did, you would be at a disadvantage with me, and you don't want to be that; nor do I wish to be, ever."
He said obstinately: "I'm getting sick of this Adriutha business."