All day McCoy had been swept by waves of tenderness for this girl wife of his who had risked her life to save him by driving into the line of fire so pluckily. He had longed to open his heart to her, and he had not dared. Now there was a new note about her that puzzled him, one he had never seen before. The eyes that flashed into his were fierce with defiance. Her slim figure was very erect and straight. “What do you want?” she demanded. He was taken aback. Never before had her manner been less than friendly to him. While she was in this mood he could not voice his surcharge of feeling for her. “You are tired,” he suggested. A sudden gusty passion flared in her face. “Did you come to tell me that?” “No. To thank you.” “What for?” “For risking your life for me this morning. It was splendid.” She dismissed his thanks with a contemptuous little snap of finger and thumb. “If that’s all you have to say——” “That’s all, except good-night, dear.” Definitely she refused his wistfulness, definitely withdrew into herself and met his appeal icily. “Good-night.” Her voice rejected flatly the love he offered. Always he had been chary of embraces with her. To him she was so fine and exquisite that her kisses were a privilege not to be claimed of right. Now he merely hid his hurt with a patient smile. “I hope you’ll sleep well.” Her eyes flamed with scorn. She closed the door. He heard the key turn in the lock. Rowan knew that she was locking him out of her heart as well as out of the room. CHAPTER X THE RIFT WIDENS ACROSS the breakfast table next morning Rowan faced a hostile young stranger. The gay comrade who was so dear to him, the eager, impulsive girl all fire and flame and dewy softness, had vanished to give place to a cold and flinty critic. Abruptly and without notice she had withdrawn her friendship. Why? Was it that she had grown tired of him and what he had to offer? Or had he done something to displease her? Manlike, he tried gifts. “I’ve decided to have that conservatory built for you off the living room as soon as I can get the glass. Better draw up your plans right away.” “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want it.” Her voice was like icy water. “I’m sorry,” he said gently, and presently he finished his breakfast and left the room. Ruth bit her lip and looked out of the window. Tears began to film her eyes. She went to her room, locked the door, and flung herself down on the bed in a passion of weeping.