"And since you forbade me to speak of you, I said nothing." "How literal you are!" she exclaimed impatiently.
"I could see no figurative application of your words," he retorted, beginning to be annoyed at her prolonged ill humour.
"Perhaps there was none." "In that case--" "Oh, do not argue! I detest argument in all shapes, and most of all when I am expected to answer it.

You cannot understand me--you never will--" She broke off suddenly and looked at him.
She was angry with him, with herself, with everything, and in her anger she loved him tenfold better than before.

Had he not been blinded by his own absolute coldness he must have read her heart in the look she gave him, for his eyes met hers.

But he saw nothing.

The glance had been involuntary, but Unorna was too thoroughly a woman not to know all that it had expressed and would have conveyed to the mind of any one not utterly incapable of love, all that it might have betrayed even to this man who was her friend and talked of being her brother.