"Nonsense, dear! There is no danger, I think. We must not stay here listening: it would be so unfair. Come and stand in Mr Brettison's passage. You will be out of the draught and cold." "Don't touch me, I say," she whispered angrily; and she drew her hand from his grasp with a sharp snatch. "Don't be foolish," he said excitedly. "Come along here." "No--no--no." "But, Edie, dear!" "How dare you!" she cried quite aloud. "Edie! Can you not trust me?" he said reproachfully. "It was for your sake I spoke. People may be coming up or going down. Let's go back to Mr Brettison's door." "No," she said hoarsely; "I will stay here." "But there is no need," he said gently. "I know what you feel in your anxiety about Myra; but really there is no need. Come." He tried to take her hand again, but she recoiled from him so suddenly that her little hood fell back, and, dim though the staircase landing was, he could see the bright little face before him convulsed with anger, and that her eyes literally flashed. "Edie!" he whispered, "how can you be so foolish! I tell you I will answer for Myra's safety there with my life if you like." "Myra!" she said in an angry whisper; "do you think I was considering her? I--oh, it is too much. How could I be so mad and stupid as to--as to--come!" Guest gazed at her wonderingly. At first he merely attributed her actions to her anxiety on her cousin's behalf, but her words contradicted that; and, utterly astounded, he stammered out: "Edie--speak to me--have I offended you? What have I done?" "Oh, nothing. It is I who have been foolish," she said hysterically. "Girls are so silly sometimes." "Then there is something," he said eagerly. "I have offended you. Edie, dear, pray tell me." He took hold of her unwilling hand and, in spite of her effort, drew it through his arm, and led her toward the short passage in which Brettison's door was placed. "You don't answer me," he whispered as they reached the spot where she and her cousin had waited only a short time before, and his love for her speaking now warmly in the tone of his voice. "Edie, dearest, I would suffer anything sooner than give you pain. Forgive me if I have done anything; forgive me, too, for speaking out so plainly at a time like this, but I do love you, darling, indeed--indeed." As he spoke he raised her hand passionately, and yet reverently, to his lips, and the next moment he would have pressed it warmly, but the kiss was upon vacancy, for the hand was sharply snatched away. "It is all false!" cried Edie in a low, angry voice. "I do not believe a word." "Edie!" he whispered reproachfully. "Do you think I am blind? Do you think because I am so young that I am a child?" "I--I don't know what you mean," he faltered, utterly taken aback by the silent vehemence of the passion displayed by the quivering little lady before him.