His methods were not as subtle as usual and they frightened Freda. But she thought it wiser not to quarrel with him and sat down obediently beside him on the divan--much too close for her taste. “You aren’t really going away, are you, Freda?” “I can’t stay forever. My welcome’s wearing a little thin.” She tried to pull away from that encircling arm but he would not have it. His strength had surprised her before, and she had not before minded his demonstrations. To-night she felt them as different, vaguely repellent. “Please don’t, Ted.” “I’m crazy about you, Freda. I’ve never seen a girl like you. There aren’t any girls like you. Never have been any. I never knew what it meant to be in love before.” And all the time that arm tighter, heavier. His face seemed to Freda to thicken. She discovered that she hated it. Abruptly she wrenched herself free. But he followed her and unfortunately she had gone to an even darker corner. He pulled her to him and kissed her. It was the first time he had done it and it seemed to exhilarate him. There followed one of the worst half hours of Freda’s life. She kept wondering what had happened to the others. She was conscious of herself growing disheveled. She realized that he was in earnest, that he was excited past his own control. In desperation she cried at him-- “But I don’t care for you at all.” “That makes it more interesting to a man,” said Ted, gallantly. “Anyway, I’ll never give up.” “And,” thought Freda, suddenly, with directness, “he hasn’t said one word about marrying.” With a kind of vague desire to sound the situation fully, she said-- “Do you really want me to marry you?” The drinking that Ted had done had not improved his keenness of wit. He laughed. “I think you could almost make me do that,” he answered, “but what’s the use of marrying? What we want is love--you know. I sized you up at the start. Freda--you wonderful girl--let me tell you--” What he told her, the outlines of his plan, struck Freda with impersonal clearness. She had an odd sense of watching the scene from the outside, as an observer who jeered at her a little for being implicated. Similar scenes she had read about ran through her mind. She thought of Ann Veronica and Mr. Ramage. “He hasn’t gone quite far enough for me to actually fight him,” she thought--and then--“I ought to ring for a servant or something--that’s what’s always done. I’m being insulted. I ought to either faint or beat him. I’m interested. Isn’t it shocking!” Above all these almost subconscious thoughts her mind dealt with practicalities. She wondered where the others were. She must get out of the house early in the morning. She wondered if Ted would keep this up even if the others came in. She tried to get to the door but her movement towards escape roused him further. It had evidently never entered his head that she really meant to rebuff him. He caught her in his arms. “So you see, beautiful, how easy the whole thing will be--”