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260 pulled her hand from his petulantly, and for the first time there was no shy fear of him in her voice. That kiss of Dick's had lit in her something which Tempest could not quench. She did not know it consciously. She was far too stupid for that. But instinct told her without hesitation or surprise.

"I do not want to marry you," she said.

"But I can give you so much, dear. Think! A carriage. And pretty dresses. And servants to do as you tell them." She pouted, looking away from his tense, earnest face. Neither could see the tragedy of that wooing. To the girl it was merely a tiresome interlude which yet pleased her vanity. To the man it was the swing in the balance of the soul he loved best.

"I—I do not want servants," she said. "I would rather have Dick to paint me."

For all Tempest's care his voice took a changed note.

"You won't have Dick long. He will soon find someone else to paint. And then what will you do?"

"He no fin' anozzer si belle." Andree flashed round on him. "He say so. Him say me best. Him love me, an' I love him."

She had no intention of being brutal. She spoke the thing as she believed it, simply and directly. But for a space the man at her side could not answer. Then he said, slowly:

"Does that mean that you are going to marry him?"

She spread her hands out.

"What matter?" she said. "I suppose. But I do not care for marry. He want me an' I want him. That 'nough."

"You are sure of this, Andree?"

She did not notice anything in the low, steady voice.

"Mais certainment," she said. "I do love him."

"No! No, you don't. You love me. Me. You want to come to me—not to him. Andree! Andee!"

He was holding her by both her arms, and his white face was very near. Unguessed-at defiance rose in her. She held her head back. "

"I love Dick," she cried. "I love Dick! I love Dick!"

He held her, searching the fire in her face and eyes. And