"There is only one thing can make
us quarrel, Sir Roger--that is, asking me questions I don't choose to
answer. And I don't choose to answer in the present case."
"But I insist upon your answering, Mollie Dane!" burst out Carl
Walraven. "I don't choose to be mystified and humbugged in this
egregious manner. I insist upon a complete explanation."
"Do you, indeed, Mr. Walraven? And how are you going to get it?"
"From you, Mollie Dane."
"Not if I know myself--and I rather fancy I do! Oh, no, Mr.
Walraven--no, you don't! I shan't say another word to you, or to any
other living being, until I choose; and it's no use bullying, for you
can't make me, you know. I've given Sir Roger his alternative, and I can
give you yours. If you don't fancy my remaining here under a cloud, why,
I can go as I came, free as the wind that blows. You've only to say the
word, Guardy Walraven!"
The blue eyes flashed as Carl Walraven had never seen them flash before;
the pink-tinged cheeks flamed rose-red; but her voice never rose, and
she kept her quaint seat on the stool.
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