drive up."

She didn't believe him, or she tried to impress him with that affront.
Blodgett and Lambert had gone on into the library. They remained quite
alone in the huge, dusky hall, whose shadow masses shifted as the fire
blazed and fell. For the first time since their ancient rides he could
talk to her undisturbed. He wouldn't let that fact tie his tongue. She
couldn't call him "stable boy" now, although she did try to say "beast"
in another way. This solitude in the dusk, shared with her, stripped
every distracting thought from his mind. He was as hard as steel and
happy in his inflexibility.

"You believe me," he said.

She shook her head and turned for the door.

"Let me say one thing," he urged. "It's rather important."

She came back through the shadows, her attitude reminiscent of the one
she had assumed long ago when she had sought to hurt him. He caught his
breath, waiting.

"There is nothing," she said, shivering a little in spite of the hall's
warmth and the furs she still wore, "that you would think of saying to
me if you had changed at all from the impertinent groom I had to have
discharged."

He laughed.

"Oh! Call me anything you please, only I've always wanted to thank you
for not making a scene at Miss Alston's dance a year ago."

He would be disappointed if that failed to hurt back. The thought of
Sylvia Planter making a scene! At least it fanned her temper.

"What is there," she threatened, defensively, "to prevent my telling Mr.
Blodgett, any one I please, now?"

"Nothing, except that I'm a trifle more on my feet," he answered. "I'm
not sure your scandal would blow me over. We're going to meet again
frequently. It can't he helped."

"I never want," she said, as if speaking of something unclean and
revolting, "to see you again."

His chance had come.

"You're unfair, because it was you yourself, Miss Planter, who warned me
I shouldn't forget. I haven't. I won't. Will you? Can't we shake hands
on that understanding?"

With a hurried movement she hid her hands.

"I couldn't touch you----"

"You will when we dance."

He thought her lips trembled a little, but the light was uncertain.

"I will never dance with you again."

"I'm afraid you'll have to," he said with a confident smile, "unless you
care to make a scene."

She drew away, unfastening her cloak, her eyes full of that old
challenge.

"You're impossible," she whispered. "Can't you understand that I dislike
you?"