With the last expression he knew she had reached a decision, not flattering to him.

He tried to show her by looking at her that he did not care what her opinion was, but his recreant eyes refused the issue and he knew that he was being worsted in a spiritual battle with the first strong feminine character he had met; that her personality was overpowering his in the first clash.

With a last effort he forced his eyes to steadiness and succeeded in sneering at her, though he felt that somehow the sneer was ineffectual, puerile.

And then she smiled at him, deliberately, with a disdain that maddened him and brought a dark flush to his face that reached to his temples.

And then her voice taunted him: "What a big, brave man you are ?" Twice her gaze roved over him from head to foot before her voice came again, and in the total stoppage of his thoughts he found it impossible to choose a word suitable to interrupt her.
"For you _think_ you are a man, I suppose ?" she added, her voice filled with a lashing scorn.