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Page 86
"It is those ways that are displeasing to me. I----"
"Then you shall change them," he laughed. "That will give me
pleasure.... But I did not come in the dead of this night, half sick
and fatigued, to find such welcome. Come, you must smile a little
and sit down at the table with me. Here are delicacies I sent from
Cairo."
Smilingly he seated himself at the divan by the table and lifted the
covers from the plates, nodded satisfaction at the food, and began
to help himself, while she stood there, motionless.
Without looking up, "Will you not help me to the Apollinaris,
Mademoiselle?" he suggested. "My right hand, you see, is not as it
should be. There is a bottle opener on the tray."
Feeling a fool, but unwilling to provoke a crisis, Arlee tugged at
the cork and poured him a glass of the sparkling water and then a
glass for herself, which she thirstily drank. "How did you hurt your
hand?" it occurred to her to say.
"By playing with fire--the single pastime of entertainment!" He
spoke gaily, but his lips twitched. "But will you not sit down and
join me? This caviar I recommend."
"I do not care to eat."
"No?" He finished his sandwich and drained his glass, talking
banteringly the while to her. She did not answer. Something told her
that the time of explanation between them was coming fast; he had
ceased to play with his good fortune, ceased to feel he could afford
to wait and look and fancy. He had come urgent, in the dead of
night. His mood was teasing, mocking, but imperative.... Slowly she
moved toward the unlatched door.
Alertly he was before her; the bolts shot home. "Ah, pardon, but I
was negligent! We might be interrupted--and also," he laughed, as if
deprecatingly, "I have foolish fears that you are so dream-like that
you will vanish like a dream without those earthly bars. Locks are
for treasures.... And now where is that welcome for me? I came in
that door on fire to see you, and your eyes froze me. I came to
love--you made me mock. Shall we begin again? Will you be nice now,
little one, be kind and sweet----"
"Captain Kerissen, you make it impossible for me to like you at all!
Why do you treat me like this? You shut me in this house like a
prisoner. If you--if you care for me at all," stammered Arlee, "you
would not treat me so!"
"And how, then, would I treat you?" he inquired slowly.
"You would--you would take me to my own people and give me back my
independence, my dignity. Then there would be honor in your--your
courtship. I----"
"Would you come back to me?"
"I----"
The lie choked her. And the passion of anger which had flared in her
that afternoon sprang up in flame again; the candlelight showed the
hot blood in her cheeks. "I shall not come to you if you keep me
here!" she gave back fearlessly.
"But here I can come to you. And the preliminaries are always
stupid--I have no desire to re�nact them. I am well content with
where we have arrived. Be content, also."
She stared back at his smiling face. And all she thought was, "Shall
I defy him now, or try to hold him off a little longer?" She had
ceased to feel afraid; her blood was on fire; it was battle now
between them; perhaps a battle of the wits a little longer, then----
"In America men do not make love by force," she flung at him. "You
are mad, Captain Kerissen! You will be sorry if you go on like this.
If you wish to marry me you must give me the freedom of choice. You
must give me time. I must have a minister of my own faith. Do you
think I will submit to this? You make me hate you!"
"Hate is often love with a mask," he laughed, his eyes fixed on the
spirited, flushed face, the flashing eyes, the defiant mouth. "And
do not quote your America to me. You are done with America."
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