"I'm so sorry. But you're sure there was nothing else—nothing but friendship—nothing emotional between you?"
"Absolutely sure. Not that I think you've any right to question me like this, but I answer this once—there was nothing of what you seem to suspect."
"Basil, you lie badly," was her quiet comment.
"How dare you say I lie!" he burst out. "I won't say another word to you about it! First, you cross-question me as you've no right to do, and then you say I lie! I won't stand it."
Teresa walked on a few steps farther to a corner, and stopped.
"Will you get me a cab, please?" she said gently. "I'll go home."
"No, Teresa!" he cried wretchedly. "We can't separate like this. I can't quarrel with you now. Let us go and have our dinner—don't, don't quarrel with me, for heaven's sake!"
"I don't want to quarrel," she said in the same deadly quiet tone. "Let us go to dinner, then. But I'd like the cab—I'm cold."
In the carriage he felt her shivering beside him. She hid her face in her muff, and replied by monosyllables to his anxious questions. Basil had given the address of a down-town restaurant where they had often dined together gaily, and they had rather a long drive. When they
