"Well, Aunt Lois, I wait for your final question?"
"It is this. What about Annaik?"
Startled by her tone and sudden lifted glance, Alan stared in silence; then recollecting himself, he repeated dully:
"'What about Annaik?' ... Annaik, Aunt Lois, why do you ask me about Annaik?"
"She loves you."
"As a brother; as the betrothed of Ynys; as a dear comrade and friend."
"Do not be a hypocrite, Alan. You know that she loves you. What of your feeling toward her?"
"I love her ... as a brother loves a sister ... as any old playmate and friend ... as ... as the sister of Ynys."
A faint, scornful smile came upon the white lips of the Marquise.