“I’m always up against it when I’m talking to you,” he said. “You get me rattled. There’s things I want to talk about and ask you. Suppose you give me a chance, and let us start out by being sort of friends.”
“I am staying in your house,” she answered in a deadly voice, “and I cannot go away because my mother will not let me. You can force yourself upon me, if you choose, because I cannot help it but understand once for all that I will not give you your ridiculous chance. And I will not utter one word to you when I can avoid it.”
He was silent for a moment and seemed to be thinking rather deeply. She realized now that he saw the nearing dog-cart.
“You won’t. Then it’s up to me,” he said. Then with a change of tone he added: “I’ll stop the cart and tell the man to drive you to the house. I’m not going to force myself on you, as you call it. It ’u’d be no use. Perhaps it’ll come all right in the end.”
He made a sign to the groom, who hastened his horse’s pace and drew up when he reached them. Tembarom said:
“Take this lady back to the house.”
The groom, who was a new arrival, began to prepare to get down and give up his place.
“You needn’t do that,” said Tembarom.
“Won’t you get up and take the reins, sir?” the man asked uncertainly.
“No; I can’t drive. You’ll have to do it. I’ll walk.”