She drew back a little. The nearness of his arrogant, suddenly passionate face to hers filled her with a sense of panic. His eyes were like blue fire, scorching her. "Don't! Don't be absurd, Brett," she said hastily. "Why--why"--seeking for some good reason to set against his abruptly declared determination--"you hardly know me! Only just on the surface, that is." "I know all I need to, thank you. I know you're the woman I want to marry. No"--checking with a gesture the impulsive negative with which she was about to respond--"you needn't bother about refusing me. I'm not asking you to marry me--not at this moment." Ann took a fresh hold of herself. "That's just as well," she said, trying to match his coolness with her own. "As I told you--you don't really know anything about me. I may"--forcing a smile--"have a perfectly horrid character, for all you can tell." "You may," he replied indifferently. "It wouldn't worry me in the least if you had." Then, with a strange intensity, he went on: "I shouldn't let anything that had happened in the past stand between me and the woman I wanted--if I wanted her badly enough." Ann stiffened. "I think you're talking very funnily," she observed. "I don't understand you at all." "Don't you?" Once more that swift, searching glance of the brilliant blue eyes. "In plain English, then, it wouldn't matter in the slightest to me what the woman I loved had done in the past. She may have sown her little crop of wild oats if she likes. The past is hers. The future would be mine. And I'd take care of that"--grimly. "This is all very interesting, of course," said Ann repressively. "But I don't see how it affects me." "Do you really mean that?" He rapped out the question sharply--so sharply that she almost jumped. "Certainly, I mean it," she replied with a slight accession of hauteur that sat rather charmingly upon her. She rose quickly, as a sound of voices heralded the return of the rest of the party. "And I'd prefer you not to talk to me any more--like that," she added. Forrester's eyes followed her as she moved back into the room and began chatting pleasantly with her returning guests. There was a look of amusement in them mingled with a certain unqualified admiration. "Game little devil!" he muttered to himself. Soon afterwards the M.F.H.'s wife rose to go, and, graciously offering the Tempests a lift home in her car, swept them away with her. When they had taken their departure Lady Susan declared that Ann was looking tired and that it was high time she and Brett started on their homeward tramp. "You'll be feeling quite yourself again by next week, my dear," she said. "Just in time for Brett's party on the _Sphinx_," she added, smiling. A faint look of hesitation crossed Ann's face. Brett saw it instantly. "You promised to come," he said swiftly, almost as though he dared her to retract her acceptance.