“In speaking for myself, I speak for her; our interests are identical.”
“You flatter yourself; Miss Earle is not yet your wife.”
“Would you come between us?”
“God forbid! I am willing that Polly, as you call her, should marry whom she will—when I am dead.”
“Or when you have robbed her of every cent she owns.”
“Oh, what language! I marvel you have not more delicacy of expression, Mr. Unwin. Your father was noted for his refinement.”
“He had not to deal with—” the word was almost out, but Clarke restrained himself—“with a man who could forsake his motherless child in her tender years, only to expect unbounded sacrifices from her when she has attained maturity.”
“I expect no more than she will be glad to grant. Maida has pride—so have you. You would neither of you like to see her father in jail.”
Clarke bounded to his feet.
“We do not imprison men here for debt,” he cried.