"There comes my car.

I'll not trouble you to accompany me." She put out her hand.

"Goodby." She did not realize it, or intend it, but she had appealed to one of his powerful instincts, a powerful instinct in all predatory natures--the instinct to pursue whatever seems to be flying.
He shook his head at the motorman, who was bringing the car to a halt; the car went on.

He stood in front of her.

Her color was high, but she could not resist the steady compulsion of his eyes.