"I take it, then, that you are definitely offering me your hand and fifty per cent of all your worldly goods, Mr. Randall."
"Do you accept them?" he asked.
Clancy shook her head, smiling.
"Not to-day, thank you."
Randall frowned.
"Mrs. Carey is altogether too ambitious," he said. "She couldn't play Fate."
Clancy made a moue.
"Oh, then, last night—you think it might have been different?"
"I have no thoughts, Miss Deane—merely hopes. But Mrs. Carey said that you were worried— I could see that, too—and she thought that it wasn't fair——"
Clancy felt a sudden resentment at Sophie Carey. After all, even though Mrs. Carey had been ever so kind, it had all been voluntary. Clancy hadn't dreamed of asking anything of her. And even involuntary kindness, grudging kindness, doesn't bestow upon the donor the right to direct the affairs of the donee. Once again, she was rather certain that she and Sophie Carey would never be real friends. She would always owe the older woman gratitude, but——