His arguments and prefaces--the Olympic Games, Discipline and the rest of it--what she had caught of them, she blew away as so much froth.

She dived to the personal reason.
"You are tired of me." "No," Luttrell answered hotly.

"That's not true--not even a half-truth.
If I were tired of you, it would all be so easy, so brutally easy." "But you are!" Her voice rose shrill in its violence.

"You know you are but you are too much of a coward to say so--oh, like all men!" and as Luttrell turned to her a face startled by her outcry and uttered a remonstrant "Hush!", she continued bitterly, "What do I care if they all hear?
I am impossible! You know that, don't you?
I am quite impossible! I have gone my own way.

I am one of the people you hate--one of the Undisciplined." Stella Croyle hardly knew in her passion what she was saying, and Luttrell could only wait in silence for the storm to pass.