"And now she has accepted you."
"Yes." The assent was bitter. "On my father's word."
"His word?"
"Yes. He stands by me. He confirms me. She asked him if I had been married to her brother. 'Yes,' said my father."
"Why?"
"The money. Always that—money, position, a pressure here, a pull there."
"Then"—his tone seemed to demand her actual meaning—"your case is won. Electra owns you."
She was on her feet gripping the back of her chair with both hands. The rough wood hurt her and she held it tighter.
"Range myself with him—my father? Sell myself in his company? No! When I was fighting before, it was from bravado, pride, mean pride, the necessity of the fight. But now, when he confirms me—no! no! no!"
"We must tell the truth," she heard Osmond murmuring to himself.