ne skin into very little bits,
her head bent over it. Then she flung the fragments far from her
with a gesture of rebellion. "I hate fibs," she said explosively.
And then, "But I hate explanations more!" She hesitated, stealing a
quick glance under her lashes at his frowning face.

"And some people," she stammered, "might--might
not--understand--they would feel that--some people would----"

"Some people are great fools, undoubtedly," Billy promptly agreed.
But back of the some people he saw Falconer in her mind, and
Falconer's instinctive distaste of all strangeness and sensation.

"I have a perfect right to keep it from--them," she went on
argumentatively, and then with an upward glance, "Haven't I?"

"Good Lord, yes! It was your adventure; it doesn't concern another
soul in this wide world."

"You know," said Arlee, locking and unlocking her fingers, "you
know, some people wouldn't take it all for granted the way--you
do.... And it was very horrid."

"It's over," said he crisply, "except I'd like to pound him to a
jelly."

"I couldn't bear to _speak_ of him before," said the girl, "but now
it seems all far away and nightmarish.... And I'd like to tell you
how it was--a little."

"You needn't."

"I know I needn't." Arlee's tone was suddenly proud. Then she melted
again. "But I want you to know. He was--he was trying to make me
care for him.... He wasn't really as dreadful as you might think
him, only just insane--about me--and utterly unscrupulous. But he
did want me to like him and so, when I found out, when Fritzi told
me I was in a trap, I tried to play his game. I _flirted_ one day in
the garden, at lunch, and made him think---- You see, I _had_ to gain
time and try to get word to people. But I hated him so I----" She
broke off, the pupils of her fixed eyes big and black with the
memory.

"You know I can't--I can't think of you--alone there," came huskily
from the young man.

"He never _dared_ to touch me--really--till last night," she said
fiercely. "He tried, but I--I held him off. Only he talked to
me--Oh, how he talked. Like a river of words.... I hate all those
words.... If ever again a man asks me to marry him I don't ever want
him to _talk_ about it. I want him just to say two words, _Will
you?_" Her laugh caught quiveringly in her throat.

It taxed all the young man's control to keep his tongue off the
echo.

"He just raved," she went on after a pause, "and I had to
listen--but last nigh