"I do not love her," began Lambert, and then checked himself, as he
really could not discuss so delicate a matter with this wildcat. "Why
did you listen, may I ask?" he demanded, passing his tongue over his dry
lips.

"Because I love you, and love is jealous."

Lambert restrained himself by a violent effort from shaking her. "You
are talking nonsense," he declared with enforced calmness. "And it is
ridiculous for you to love a man who does not care in the least for
you."

"It will come--I can wait," insisted Chaldea sullenly.

"If you wait until Doomsday it will make no difference. I don't love
you, and I have never given you any reason to think so."

"Chee-chee!" bantered the girl. "Is that because I am not a raclan?"

"A raclan?"

"A married Gentile lady, that is. You love her?"

"I--I--see, here, Chaldea, I am not going to talk over such things with
you, as my affairs are not your business."

"They are the business of the Gorgious female's rom."

"Rom? Her husband, you mean. What do you know of--"