"I thought you were better than the others," he continued, with the bitter wisdom of twenty years. "But you women are all alike. When a man gets into trouble, you desert him. You hurry him on to the devil. I have been turned out of the church, and now you are down on me. Oh, well! But you know how much I have always liked you, Daphne."
It was not the first time he had acted this character. It had been a favorite role. But Daphne had never seen the like. She was overwhelmed with happiness that he cared so much for her; and to have him reproach her for indifference, and see him suffering with the idea that she had turned against him--that instantly changed the whole situation. He had not heard then what had taken place at the dinner. Under the circumstances, feeling certain that the secret of her love had not been discovered, she grew emboldened to risk a little more.
So she turned toward him smiling, and swayed gently as she clung to the vine.
"Yes; I have my orders not even to speak to you! Never again!" she said, with the air of tantalizing.
"Then stay with me a while now," he said, and lifted slowly to her his appealing face. She sat down, and screened herself with a little feminine transparency.
"I can't stay long: it's going to rain!"
He cast a wicked glance at the sky from under his hat; there were a few clouds on the horizon.
"And so you are never going to speak to me again?" he said mournfully.
"Never!" How delicious her laughter was.
"I'll put a ring on your finger to remember me by."