He continued to race up and down the room, all nerves and frenzy. “Don’t we care about each other?”
She answered carefully. “I think you care about me to the extent that you believe I’d make a good mistress of the house your mother left you, and which, you say, is like an empty sepulcher. If you didn’t have it on your hands, I don’t imagine it would have occurred to you to ask me.”
“Well, that’s all right. Now what about you?”
“You’ve already answered that question for yourself.” She stiffened haughtily. “I’m an old maid. I haven’t been brought up by Aunt Marion for nothing. I’ve an old maid’s ways and outlooks and habits. I resented your saying it a minute ago, and yet it’s 9 true. I’ve known for years that it was true. It wouldn’t be fair for me to marry any man. So here it is, Rash.” Crossing the floor-space she held out the ring again. “You might as well take it first as last.”
He drew back from her, his features screwed up like those of a tragic mask. “Do you mean it?”
“Do I seem to be making a joke?”
Averting his face, he swept the mere sight of the ring away from him. “I won’t touch the thing.”
“And I can’t keep it. So there!”
It fell with a little shivery sound to a bare spot on the floor, rolling to the edge of a rug, where it stopped. Each looked down at it.
“So you mean to send me to the devil! All right! Just watch and you’ll see me go.”