The change in his voice made her look at him. His eyes, keen, masterful, were fixed on hers. They looked hard, yet not altogether ruthless; and particularly they looked as though they could read thoughts with no effort, which made it necessary to tell the truth. "I told him I didn't know," she said. To preserve her self-respect she sneered. "What a wonderful girl you are!" In his eyes she saw a great admiration. She could not tell what it was this man considered so wonderful; but, whatever it was, he knew exactly--and she did not! "If I really loved you, shouldn't I know it?" "Of course not. You are not the surrendering kind. The others are--born slaves, diminutive souls, toys, little pets. Souls like yours don't marry; they mate with an eagle! You will love me as I love you. And then there is nothing that we, together, cannot do! Nothing!" She opened her mouth, but he checked her speech by saying, sternly: "Why do you think it is that, having loved you, I cannot love any one else? Because I alone know what you are and what you will be! Grace, I promised your father I would not make love to you until I had deleted one word from our visiting-cards. It is done; but the month isn't up quite, and I won't make love to you. That's flat! I can't break my word." He looked so determined that naturally she looked away and said, very softly: "And--and if I should want you to?" "You should want me to make love to you, but not to break my word!" "But you say you love me," she complained. "Love you!" It flamed in his eyes and his hand reached for hers; but he checked himself abruptly. She extended her hand, but he edged away from her. She drew nearer to him. He retreated to the very edge of the seat. She was pursuing now. He bit his lip and frowned. She no longer thought of other things. She knew he could not retreat any farther. She covered his hand with hers. He suddenly clutched it so tightly that he hurt her, and that gave her the fierce joy of success in love as she understood it. She felt like shouting: "Hurt me! Hurt me! I've got you!" But what she did was to murmur: "Hendrik!" "What?" he said, hoarsely, resolutely keeping his eyes from looking into hers. "Hendrik, do you really love me?" "My promise!" he whispered, tensely, and looked at her pleadingly. "Don't, dear!" She understood him perfectly; so she smiled. It was her iron will against his. He must do what he did not wish to do, and do it because she wished it! She did not wish to kiss him; but she wished, hypnotist-like, to compel him to kiss her. With her eyes she beckoned him to come closer. Knowing that this would clinch it he stared back at her with a pitiful appeal in his troubled eyes, and shook his head weakly, as though his soul, thinking of his honor, was saying: "No, no! Please don't!" Her face moved toward him a little and stopped. Something within her was stamping its foot, saying: "Yes! Yes!"--like a peevish child.