"Lord! what simpletons some girls are! You're standing in your own light, pretty one! Can't you see that ?" "Sir!" cried Margery, struggling to free herself from the grasp of his strong hand, "it is dastardly, it is cowardly to summon me here to subject me to--insult." "'Pon my honor, I want to be friendly, but you won't have it so--you seem determined to kick up a row.

Come, now, be friendly; sit down here and we'll talk it over." "Unhand me!" cried Margery in terror.

"Let me go, or I shall scream for help!" "You won't do any such thing, my little ruffled birdling," he cut in, an angry light leaping up into his eyes, adding: "I am disposed to treat you very kindly, but you seem determined to make an enemy of me instead of a friend, my dear, and your reason ought to tell you how foolish that is.

Come, be sensible and listen to me.

I've taken a violent fancy to that pretty face of yours.