"No, I do not."
And he faced her doggedly as with insolent scorn she turned lightly from him, retreated a few steps, and turned again.
"And pray how do you account for the racket in the portmanteau? You were there, I think? You know what I mean?"
"Yes, I was there. The explanation of that is fairly simple, too."
"Give it me!" she cried, stamping her foot.
"No, I shall not," he replied quietly. "I shall do nothing of the kind."
"For obvious reasons!" sneered the girl; "for reasons that are so worthy of you! Ingenious is not the word for your theory—nor for you—nor for every single thing you've said to-night! I leave the word to your imagination. But it only needed this to complete my opinion—of you!"
And so she left him—with a sudden catch at her skirt, as though the very sand he stood in were malignant ground.
