“What do you mean?”
“Oh, don’t pretend to be young-missish. If you’re not alone, I won’t leave you alone, that’s what I mean.”
The reply stung her as would a lash from a whip; he had a right to make it, a right given to him by her—in that lay the sting. It was a mere question of buying and selling now with her; and this man had bought and demanded payment.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“It doesn’t concern you,” she replied fiercely. “I don’t belong to you. Go away.”
“Go away! Don’t be rude, and don’t tempt me to be rude and remind you of facts.”
“There is nothing to compel me to keep you here to-night. Will you go?”
He stood up, yawned, stretched his arms and then stood looking at her insolently.
“You’re deuced pretty, as you know, and look splendid in those clothes—but clothes cost money and money can’t be got for nothing.”
“You beast!”