Would you?" he persisted.

"No."

"You wouldn't?"

"No, I wouldn't!" she said positively. "I don't like it--I don't want
it, and even you couldn't make me take it."

She rose abruptly and turned her back so that he might not see the
tears in her eyes--tears of mortification and mental anguish. His face
more congested than ever, his step uncertain, Stafford stumbled after
her:

"I couldn't, eh?" he sneered. "Perhaps you'd like to see me try."

She turned around, almost hysterical. Pleadingly she cried:

"Please don't speak to me like that, dear! It hurts me dreadfully. If
I didn't know that it isn't yourself who is talking--"

"Not myself? Then, who is it?"

"It's the man who takes your place when--you are drunk!"

Leaning against a table to steady himself, he stared at her stupidly.

"Well, what about this man?" he sneered. "You don't like him, do you?"

"No," she replied quickly and frankly, "I do not."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

She turned to go. Pleadingly she cried:

"Please let me go, dear! I'm very unhappy. Good night!"

She started to go towards her room, but he held up his hand and in a
tone of command, cried:

"Wait!"

Virginia paid no heed, and a second time in a louder voice he cried:

"Wait!"

She stopped involuntarily and after a pause he said:

"Don't you like to talk to me? Don't you?"

"Of course I do," she stammered.

"Then come and sit down and do it."

"I'm tired, dear," she pleaded.

But he was pitiless.

"Come and sit down here," he insisted, pointing to a chair near the
table. "There!" he exclaimed.

"But, Robert--" she protested.

He refused to listen.

"There!" he commanded.

Virginia reluctantly retraced her steps and though trembling with
mingled indignation and fear, obediently sat down on the chair he
indicated. Stafford, as if suddenly seized by an insatiable thirst for
champagne, refilled his glass a second time and swallowed the
contents. Then taking a seat opposite her, he leaned his head on his
two elbows and stared at her. For several moments he said nothing but
just stared in a way that made her turn red and white in turn.
Suddenly he blurted out:

"You looked great with the whole business on, but this fluffy thing--"

He leaned across the table and placing his hand on her bare shoulder,
drew his fingers voluptuously down the arm. Virginia started back,
feeling repulsion and disgust even at his touch.

"Oh! What's the matte