"Pschutt! I mock myself of your reason," she cried, snapping her fingers and speaking in quite a French way. "I leave reasons to your chilly English ladies. I--eh, but you know I am of the South. To you--to you, my adored preserver, do I give myself." George grew angry. "If you talk like this, Lola, I shall go away." "Ah, then good-night to you. Let it be adieu and never come back." "Not at all. Be a reasonable woman and sit down. Give me some more wine and a cigarette. I want to ask you a question." Lola poured out the wine and tossed him a cigarette, but she refused to sit down or to compose herself. In a flaming temper she whirled about the room, talking all the time. "Ah, yes, but it is so always! I am a fool to love you, cold one--pig of an Englishman." "That's grateful," said George, quietly, and she was at his feet. "Ah, but no! I am a bad womans. I am entirely all wicked. You are an angel of the good God. Dearest--my own----" She stretched adoring hands, and her eyes glittered like stars. George reasoned with her. "Lola, do you wish me to be pleased with you?" "Assuredly, and why not?" "Then sit down in your chair like a Christian and talk sensibly." She sat down, or rather flung herself into the chair with a whirl of scarlet draperies. "Decidedly I am a Christian. I go to mass, I confess--yes, I confess to the priest how I love you." "Do you really love me, Lola? I was told that you wished me harm." She started from her chair with a passionate gesture. "Who says it is liars of the worst. Tell me who speak, that I may tear and scratch." "No! no! I don't want a scandal." "For her sakes, oh, yes!" She subsided sulkily. "I am nothings." "For whose sake?" asked Brendon, rather alarmed, for he did not wish this tigress to know about Dorothy. "The other woman's. Oh, yes, there is some one else. I know. You are mine all, and would be but for the other womans. Imbecile that I am to think of you who kick me hard--hard. And I can learn nothing--nothing. If I did--if I knew, I----" She stopped and breathed hard. "I wonder you don't have me watched," said George, thoroughly angry at her unreasonable attitude. Lola tossed her head, and her expression changed to one of alarm. Brendon saw the change and guessed its meaning. "You did have me watched." "And what if I did?" she demanded defiantly. "You are mine." "I am not yours," he retorted angrily. "I have given you no cause to think that I would marry you." Lola burst into tears. "You took me from the stones and snows," she wept with extravagant grief. "Why did I not die? You fed me with foods and made me shine in this London; you win my heart, and then--then--pschutt!" she snapped her fingers, "you toss it aside." "Why did you have me watched?" asked George, sternly. "I want to know of the other woman," she replied sullenly. "There is no----" He broke off. "It has nothing to do with you."