“They say a gentleman should be more dreaded.”

I stared at her, then laughed:

“Ask yourself how far you need have dread of me — when, if you desire it, you can leave me dumb, dismayed, lip-bound by your mocking tongue — which God knows well I fear.”

“Is my tongue so bitter then? I did not know it.”

“I know it,” said I with angry emphasis. “And I tell you very freely that — — ”

She stole a curious glance at me. Something halted me — an expression I had never yet seen there in her face, twitching at her lips — hovering on them now — parting them in a smile so sweet and winning