"How dare you insult a defenceless girl?"

"But--" the man stammered.

"What have I ever done but try and work to keep away from such
things, and now you come and--Oh, you beast--you cruel beast! You'll
never know what you have done."

A sense of shame possessed her. She turned away to drop scalding
tears. Anger quickly succeeded this brief fit of dejection. It
caused her inexpressible pain to think that she, a daughter of a
proud family, the girl with the aloof soul, should have been treated
in the same way as any fast London shop-girl. She was consumed with
passion; she feared what form her rage might take. At least she was
determined to have the man turned out of the house. She moved
towards the bell.

"If I've made a mistake," began the man, who all this time had been
fearfully watching her.

"If you've made a mistake!" she echoed scornfully.

"The best of us do sometimes, you know," he continued.

"Why to me--to me? What have I said or done to encourage you? Why to
me?" she cried.

"If I've made a mistake, I'm more sorry than I can say, more sorry
than you can guess."