"Do I not?" he cried. "Perhaps I did not understand last time. But this time I do. I do! It had been well for you had I known more then!"
"Spare me," she said faintly, overcome apparently by some hidden meaning in his words.
"That you may amuse yourself with this stranger?" he retorted. "No, I have given way enough. It had been better, as I say, if I had not, mademoiselle."
The stress he laid on the last word was unintelligible to the hidden listener, who knew only that it veiled an insult and drew nearer to the door. The girl remained silent and Baudouin presuming on this continued in a tone still more aggressive, "Times are changed, mademoiselle, changed in the last month. You, living out of the world, are ignorant of what is passing, and your father is being left as completely behind. Unless I make a mistake, in a little time you will need other and stronger protection than his."
"Not while he lives," the girl answered, in a low tone.
Baudouin laughed. "The pitcher goes often to the well, but it is broken at last," he said drily. "I would have you understand that, since you may stand in need of my help, you would do well not to try me too far."
"M. Baudouin," the girl said abruptly—and her tone was changed, and the listener, though he could not see her, could picture the challenge of her startled eyes—"you have never spoken to me in this way before. You have changed."
"So are the times. Those who were servants are now masters!"
"You will never be mine," the girl said firmly.
"We shall see!" he answered.