"Once there was more of sentiment
in your response, Valerie. There is little sentiment in immensity."

She flushed: "I _was_ spoons on you," she said, candidly. "I was silly
with you--and very indiscreet.... But I'd rather not recall that--"

"_I_ can not choose but recall it!"

"Nice men forget such things," she said, hastily.

"How can you speak that way about it?"

"Because I _think_ that way, Jose," she said, looking up at him; but she
saw no answering smile in his face, and little colour in it; and she
remained unquietly conscious of his gaze.

"I will not talk to you if you begin to look at me like that," she began
under her breath; "I don't care for it--"

"Can I help it--remembering--"

"You have nothing to remember except my pardon," she interrupted hotly.

"Your pardon--for showing that I cared for you?"

"My pardon for your losing your head."

"We were absolutely frank with one another--"

"I do not understand that you are the sort of man a girl can not be
frank with. We imprudently exchanged a few views on life. You--"

"Many," he said--"and particularly views on marriage."

She said, steadily: "I told you that I cared at heart nothing at all for
ceremony and form. You said the same. But you misunderstood me. What
was there in that silly conversation significant to you or to me other
than an impersonal interest in hearing ideas expressed?"

"You knew I was in love with you."

"I did _not_!" she said, sharply.

"You let me touch your hands--kiss you, once--"

"And you behaved like a madman--and frightened me nearly to death! Had
you better recall that night, Jose? I was generous about it; I was even
a little sorry for you. And I forgave you."

"Forgave me my loving you?"

"You don't know what love is," she said, reddening.

"Do you, Valerie?"

She sat flushed and silent, looking fixedly at the cups and saucers
before her.

"_Do_ you?" he repeated in a curious voice. And there seemed to be
something of terror in it, for she looked up, startled, to meet his
long, handsome eyes looking at her out of a colourless visage.

"Jose," she said, "what in the world possesses you to speak to me this
way? Have you any right to assume this attitude--merely because I
flirted with you as harmlessly--or meant it harmlessly--"

She glanced involuntarily across the studio where the others had
gathered over the new collection of mezzotints, and at her glance
Neville raised his head and smiled at he