"Nance, pretend to be angry with me."
"Must I?"
"It was not so very difficult a little while ago."
She gave him a glimmering of the eyes.
"Must I be very proud?"
"Yes, freeze me for being too forward, or scorch me with scorn!"
A woman loves humour and some degree of subtlety in a man. Nance looked at De Rothan, and then turned to her dissembling.
"I wish you would not vex me with your attentions—I mean presence"—she blushed into a moment's laughter—"I very much resent it."
"If my company is displeasing to you——"
"It is—most displeasing."