It is a bitter thing to be refused.

She felt that she had been almost brutal in her direct explicitness, called forth at the moment by an instinct that he would proceed to extreme measures unless peremptorily checked.
"I am so sorry," she said, involuntarily.
Poor Dare, who had recovered a certain amount of self-possession, now that he was on his feet again, took up his gloves and riding-whip in silence.

All his jaunty self-assurance had left him.

He seemed quite stunned.

His face under his brown skin was very pale.
"I am so sorry," said Ruth again, feeling horribly guilty.
"It is I who am sorry," he said, humbly.