"I'll not!" said she, setting her chin.

"Ah, but you shall!"

"Oh, but I won't! Who are you to question me so?"

"Tell me, or by God I'll make you!"

"Ah, don't talk, you couldn't--no, not if--" I seized her, wrenched
and swung her down across my knees (careless alike in my sudden frenzy
of fallen reins, of danger or death itself) and having her thus
helpless, set my hand about her soft, round throat.

"By God!" I gasped, "but you shall tell me, Diana; you shall tell me
if he dared sully you with his vile touch--speak--speak!"

And now as I glared down at her I saw her eyes grow wide and suddenly
fearful.

"Oh, Peregrine," she whispered. "Don't--don't look at me so--as if you
hated me--don't, ah, don't!" And then, oh, wonder of wonders! Her arms
were about my neck, drawing me lower and lower until her soft cheek
met mine and, clasping me thus, she spoke under her breath:

"He didn't. Peregrine--he didn't! No man shall ever kiss me in line
except--just--one!"

"Who?" I questioned, grasping her to me. "Who is that one?"

"Loose me, now," she pleaded. "You'll make me cry in a minute, and I