She was a little frightened, not only by his thoughts, but by his staccato way of expressing them.
Caswall moved to the door leading to the turret stair by which the roof was reached, and spoke in a peremptory way, whose tone alone made her feel defiant.
"Come! I want you." She instinctively drew back--she was not accustomed to such words, more especially to such a tone.

Her answer was indicative of a new contest.
"Why should I go?
What for ?" He did not at once reply--another indication of his overwhelming egotism.
She repeated her questions; habit reasserted itself, and he spoke without thinking the words which were in his heart.
"I want you, if you will be so good, to come with me to the turret roof.
I am much interested in certain experiments with the kite, which would be, if not a pleasure, at least a novel experience to you.

You would see something not easily seen otherwise." "I will come," she answered simply; Edgar moved in the direction of the stair, she following close behind him.
She did not like to be left alone at such a height, in such a place, in the darkness, with a storm about to break.

Of himself she had no fear; all that had been seemed to have passed away with her two victories over him in the struggle of wills.

Moreover, the more recent apprehension--that of his madness--had also ceased.