Breathless and palpitating, she lifted her face.  His eyes looked deeply into hers, eyes that glowed like molten steel, and in an instant her illusion was swept away.  It seemed to her that for the first time she looked upon Burke Ranger as he was, and her whole being recoiled in sudden wild dismay from what she saw.

“Ah!  Let me go!” she said.

He held her still, but his hold slackened.  “I won the race,” he said.

“Yes, but—­but it was only a game,” she gasped back incoherently.  “You—­you can’t—­you won’t——­”

“Kiss you?” he said.  “Not if you forbid it.”  That calmed her very strangely.  His tone was so quiet; it revived her courage.  She uttered a faint laugh.  “Is that the stake?  I can’t refuse to pay—­a debt of honour.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she saw a curious smile gleam for a moment on his face.  “That means you are prepared to take me like a nasty pill, doesn’t it?  I like your pluck.  It’s the best thing about you.  But I won’t put it to the test this time.”

He made as if he would release her, but with an odd impulse she checked him.  Somehow it was unbearable to be humoured like that.  She looked him straight in the eyes.

“We are pals, aren’t we?” she said.

The smile still lingered on Burke’s face; it had an enigmatical quality that disquieted her, she could not have said wherefore.  “It’s rather an ambiguous term, isn’t it?” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” she assured him, promptly and Very earnestly.  “It means that we are friends, but we are not in love and we are not going to pretend we are.  At least,” she flushed suddenly under his look, “that is what it means to me.”

“I see,” said Burke.  “And what would happen if we fell in love with each other?”

Her eyes sank in spite of her.  “I don’t think we need consider that,” she said.

“Why not?” said Burke.

“I could never be in love with anyone again,” she said, her voice very low.

“Quite sure?” said Burke.

Something in his tone made her look up sharply.  His eyes were intently and critically upon her, but the glow had gone out of them.  They told her nothing.

“Do you think we need discuss this subject?” she asked him uneasily.

“Not if you prefer to shirk it,” he said.  She flushed a little.  “But I don’t shirk.  I’m not that sort.”

“No,” he said.  “I don’t think you are.  You may be frightened, but you won’t run away.”

“But I’m not frightened,” she asserted boldly, looking him squarely in the face.  “We are friends, you and I. And—­we are going to trust each other.  Being married isn’t going to make any difference to us.  It was just a matter of convenience and—­we are going to forget it.”

She paused.  Burke’s face had not altered.  He was looking back at her with perfectly steady eyes.

“Very simple in theory,” he said.  “Won’t you finish?”