"When we were ever so young, Leila, and we quarrelled, we used to agree not to speak to one another for a day. Are you cross enough for that now?"
"No, I am not; but I want to feel sure that you will not say such things to me again."
"I make no promise, Leila; I should break it. If I gave you a boy's love, forget it, laugh at it; but if I give you a man's love, take care."
This odd drama—girl and woman, boy and maturing man—held the stage; now one, now the other.
"Take care, indeed!" she said, repeating his words and turning on him with sudden ungraciousness, "I think we have had enough of this nonsense."
She was in fact the more disturbed of the two, and knowing it let anger loose to chase away she knew not what, which was troubling her with emotion she could neither entirely control nor explain later as the result of what seemed to her mere foolishness. If he was himself disturbed by his storm of primitive passion, he did not show it as she did.
"Yes," he said in reply, "we have had for the present enough of this—enough talk, I mean—"
"We!" she exclaimed.
"Leila! do you want me to apologize?"
"No."