"Why are you persecuting me?" she demanded, almost tearfully.
He was daunted by her tone. "Persecuting you!" he said.
"Yes. You follow me about in the street, and stare at me. I saw you this evening at the Albert Hall, and you stared at me!..."
"Because I love you, Eleanor!" He went nearer to her, and as he did so, she retreated further into the shadow. "Don't be afraid of me, please," he said. "I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, but I'm a stranger in this town and I had no way of getting to know you. I tried hard, Eleanor!..."
"Don't call me Eleanor!"
"I can't help it. I think of you as Eleanor. I always call you Eleanor to myself. You see, dear, I'm in love with you!"
"But you don't know me. I wish you'd go away. I shall ring the bell or tell the policeman at the corner!..."
"Let me tell you about myself," he pleaded.
"I don't want to hear about you. I don't like you. You stare so hard, and you're always looking at my stockings!..."
"Oh, no!"