Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Prosperity; or, Toil Has Its Reward онлайн

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Stella interrupted him with a laugh.

“Offensive to whom?” she asked.

“To you, of course, for you struggled to throw him off.”

“Now, you saw that in your mind, Lester, my boy,” she declared. “I did not struggle.”

Vance was astounded.

“But you—you screamed,” he fluttered, hesitatingly.

“Yes, I think I did.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Well, Hodge was a trifle abrupt, and he took me by surprise.”

“Then you acknowledge——”

“That—no more.”

“But it was an insult.”

“Nonsense! It was nothing of the sort.”

Vance was pale, and he began to glare at her, anger and jealousy in his eyes.

“I hope, Miss Stanley,” he began, stiffly, “that you are not going to say that you liked it? If you——”

“That is exactly what I am going to say,” laughed the actress, to the surprise of all and the fury of Vance. “I’d just been taunting him—having sport with him, you know. He had his revenge by seizing me and kissing me.”

“In a most offensive and insolent manner,” sneered Vance.

“Offensive to you, perhaps,” she commented, cheerfully; “but not to me. As I said before, I rather liked it. I like a fellow who has the nerve to take things by storm when he cannot get them otherwise.”