She gave a little scornful nod of agreement.
“For no adequate reason,” he protested. “My presumption, as no doubt you would call it——”
“Persecution,” she corrected.
“Not persecution,” he argued. “That is a hard word to use towards a man whose love overmasters him and makes him unduly importunate.”
“A man,” she replied, and from her tone she might have been discussing the point merely from an academical point of view, “a man who cannot control his feelings, but allows them to get the better of him to the annoyance of others, deserves to be kept at a distance, even as you have been.”
The last touch perceptibly stung him. There was an unpleasant gleam in his eye as he returned, “But I am determined my state of banishment from you shall last no longer.”
Her dark eyes were raised in half-amused scorn. “Indeed? I think that rests with me rather than with you, Mr. Playford.”
“It did,” he retorted viciously; “but it does no longer.” He bent over her. “Alexia——”
She motioned him away, and rose. “No,” she said, for the first time showing anger; “I will not allow you to call me that.”
“I think you will,” he returned. “Let us understand one another.”