“No,” she replied firmly.

“Aren’t you going to?”

“No.”

“Oh, go on—­just a glass,” he said coaxingly.

“No,” she said again coldly.

“Why not?” he demanded, slightly raising his voice.

“Because I don’t wish to,” she answered with dignity.

“Is that so?” he said mockingly.  Filling another glass and drinking, he added:  “Suppose I wanted you to?  Would you take it then?”

She shook her head.

“No, dear—­”

“Would you?” he persisted.

“No.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t!” she said positively.  “I don’t like it—­I don’t want it, and even you couldn’t make me take it.”

She rose abruptly and turned her back so that he might not see the tears in her eyes—­tears of mortification and mental anguish.  His face more congested than ever, his step uncertain, Stafford stumbled after her: 

“I couldn’t, eh?” he sneered.  “Perhaps you’d like to see me try.”

She turned around, almost hysterical.  Pleadingly she cried: 

“Please don’t speak to me like that, dear!  It hurts me dreadfully.  If I didn’t know that it isn’t yourself who is talking—­”

“Not myself?  Then, who is it?”

“It’s the man who takes your place when—­you are drunk!”

Leaning against a table to steady himself, he stared at her stupidly.

“Well, what about this man?” he sneered.  “You don’t like him, do you?”

“No,” she replied quickly and frankly, “I do not.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

She turned to go.  Pleadingly she cried: 

“Please let me go, dear!  I’m very unhappy.  Good night!”

She started to go towards her room, but he held up his hand and in a tone of command, cried: 

“Wait!”

Virginia paid no heed, and a second time in a louder voice he cried: 

“Wait!”

She stopped involuntarily and after a pause he said: 

“Don’t you like to talk to me?  Don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she stammered.

“Then come and sit down and do it.”

“I’m tired, dear,” she pleaded.

But he was pitiless.

“Come and sit down here,” he insisted, pointing to a chair near the table.  “There!” he exclaimed.

“But, Robert—­” she protested.

He refused to listen.

“There!” he commanded.

Virginia reluctantly retraced her steps and though trembling with mingled indignation and fear, obediently sat down on the chair he indicated.  Stafford, as if suddenly seized by an insatiable thirst for champagne, refilled his glass a second time and swallowed the contents.  Then taking a seat opposite her, he leaned his head on his two elbows and stared at her.  For several moments he said nothing but just stared in a way that made her turn red and white in turn.  Suddenly he blurted out: