“No,” she replied. “I don’t think I ought to.” “Come with me. I’ll take you home. It’s a better way to talk.” Once more that sense of dominance on his part, that power of compulsion. She yielded, feeling all the time that she should not; he called out to the cabman, “Anywhere for a little while.” When she was seated beside him he began at once. “Listen to me, Jennie, I want you. Tell me something about yourself.” “I have to talk to you,” she replied, trying to stick to her original line of defense. “About what?” he inquired, seeking to fathom her expression in the half light. “I can’t go on this way,” she murmured nervously. “I can’t act this way. You don’t know how it all is. I shouldn’t have done what I did this morning. I mustn’t see you any more. Really I mustn’t.” “You didn’t do what you did this morning,” he remarked, paradoxically, seizing on that one particular expression. “I did that. And as for seeing me any more, I’m going to see you.” He seized her hand. “You don’t know me, but I like you. I’m crazy about you, that’s all. You belong to me. Now listen. I’m going to have you. Are you going to come to me?” “No, no, no!” she replied in an agonized voice, “I can’t do anything like that, Mr. Kane. Please listen to me. It can’t be. You don’t know. Oh, you don’t know. I can’t do what you want. I don’t want to. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. You don’t know how things are. But I don’t want to do anything wrong. I mustn’t. I can’t. I won’t. Oh, no! no!! no!!! Please let me go home.” He listened to this troubled, feverish outburst with sympathy, with even a little pity. “What do you mean by you can’t?” he asked, curiously. “Oh, I can’t tell you,” she replied. “Please don’t ask me. You oughtn’t to know. But I mustn’t see you any more. It won’t do any good.” “But you like me,” he retorted. “Oh yes, yes, I do. I can’t help that. But you mustn’t come near me any more. Please don’t.” He turned his proposition over in his mind with the solemnity of a judge. He knew that this girl liked him—loved him really, brief as their contact had been. And he was drawn to her, perhaps not irrevocably, but with exceeding strength. What prevented her from yielding, especially since she wanted to? He was curious. “See here, Jennie,” he replied. “I hear what you say. I don’t know what you mean by ‘can’t’ if you want to. You say you like me. Why can’t you come to me? You’re my sort. We will get along beautifully together. You’re suited to me temperamentally. I’d like to have you with me. What makes you say you can’t come?” “I can’t,” she replied. “I can’t. I don’t want to. I oughtn’t. Oh, please don’t ask me any more. You don’t know. I can’t tell you why.” She was thinking of her baby. The man had a keen sense of justice and fair play. Above all things he wanted to be decent in his treatment of people. In this case he intended to be tender and considerate, and yet he must win her. He turned this over in his mind.