He threw back his head and regarded his opponent with an open
challenge, daring him to become angry. The match went out.

Virginia, who had listened in growing anger and astonishment, unable
longer to refrain from defending the dignity of her usually autocratic
father, although he seemed little disposed to defend himself, now
intervened from her dark corner on the divan.

"Is the journey then so long, sir," she asked composedly, "that it at
once inspires such anticipations--and such bitterness?"

In an instant the man was on his feet, hat in hand, and the cigarette
had described a fiery curve into the empty hearth.

"I beg your pardon, sincerely," he cried, "I did not know you were
here!"

"You might better apologize to my father," replied Virginia.

The young man stepped forward and, without asking permission, lighted
one of the tall lamps.

"The lady of the guns!" he marvelled softly to himself.

He moved across the room, looking down on her inscrutably, while she
looked up at him in composed expectation of an apology--and Galen
Albret sat motionless, in the shadow of his great arm-chair. But after
a moment her calm attention broke down. Something there was about this
man that stirred her emotions--whether of curiosity, pity,
indignation, or a slight defensive fear she was not introspective