"You!" he whispered hoarsely. "If God is good to me! For life."

"You are mad!" she murmured.

"Maybe," he said, eying her with the resentment which is so closely
akin to love; "but I think you understand my madness. Talking gets us
nowhere. A dozen times to-day your eyes answered mine. Either you
feel it too or you are a coquette!"

This brought a genuine anger to Colina's aid. Her weakness fled. "How
dare you!" she cried with blazing eyes.

"Coquette!" he repeated doggedly. "To dress yourself up like that to
drive me mad!"

Colina forgot the social amenities. "You fool!" she cried. "This is
my ordinary way of dressing at night! It is not for you!"

"It was for me!" he said sullenly. "You were happy when you saw its
effect on me! If it's only a game I can't play it with you. It means
too much to me!"

"Coquette!" still made a clangor in Colina's brain that deafened her to
everything else. "You are a savage!" she cried. "I'm sorry I asked
you here. You needn't wait for my father to come back. Go!"

"Not without a plain answer!" he said.

Colina tried to laugh; she was too angry. "My answer is no!" she cried