A strange foaming seemed to be in her blood.

She was deliriously, deliciously numb and happy.
"Antoinette!" "Oh, I don't know what I think," she gasped.

"I-- Oh yes, I do, I do." "I like your name," he said, simply.

"Antoinette." And then, pulling her to him, he slipped his arm about her waist.
She was frightened, numb, and then suddenly, not so much from shame as shock, tears rushed to her eyes.

She turned and put her hand on the desk and hung her head and sobbed.
"Why, Antoinette," he asked, gently, bending over her, "are you so much unused to the world?
I thought you said you loved me.