I
don't intend to submit to it any longer!"
Queer, spasmodic movements were going on in Quin's lungs, and he
controlled his voice with difficulty.
"You mean you are going on seeing Mr. Phipps and letting him send you
flowers and things?"
"I am _not!_" Eleanor cried furiously. "But, if I should, it's nobody's
business but my own!"
For an agonizing moment they faced each other angrily, both of them lost
in the labyrinth of their own situation. At the slightest plea for help
on her part, Quin would have broken through his own difficulties and
rushed to her rescue. He would even have offered to plead her cause again
at the family tribunal. But she was like a wilful child who is determined
to walk alone on a high and dangerous wall. The very effort to protect
her might prove disastrous.
"If that's the case," said Quin, with his jaw thrust out and his nostrils
quivering, "what do you want me to do?"
"I don't care what you do!" Eleanor flung back--"just so you leave me
alone."
Without a word, he picked up his hat and strode out of the apartment and
down the stairs. At every landing he paused, hoping against hope that she
might call him back.
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