"Who are you?
Go away!" "Give me one second to explain," he began; but with the instant reassurance of this beginning she cut him off short, her fears dispelled by his commonplace.

Nay, indignation displaced them so quickly that she fairly flashed up before him to her full height.
"You did not come in by the gate!" she cried.

"What do you mean by coming here in that dress What right have you in my garden ?" "Just one word," he begged quickly, but very gently.

"You'd allow a street-beggar that much!" She stood before him, panting, and, as he thought, glorious, in her flush of youth and anger.

Tom Vanrevel had painted her incoherently, but richly, in spite of that, his whole heart being in the portrait; and--Crailey Gray had smiled at what he deemed the exaggeration of an ordinarily unimpressionable man who had fallen in love "at first sight;" yet, in the presence of the reality, the Incroyable decided that Tom's colors had been gray and humble.