“Sholto!” said Marian, rising quickly, and looking at him in surprise.
“Spare me these airs,” he said, coldly. “You will have to accustom yourself to hear the truth occasionally.”
She sat down again. “I am not giving myself airs,” she said, earnestly. “I am astonished. Have I really been sulky?”
“You have been in the sulks for days past: and you are in them at this moment.”
“There is some misunderstanding between us then; for you have seemed to me quite cross and out of sorts for the last week; and I thought you were out of temper when you came in just now.”
“That is rather an old-fashioned retort.”
“Sholto: I do not know whether you intend it or not; but you are speaking very slightingly to me.”
He muttered something, and walked across the room and back. “I am quite clear on one point at least,” he said. “It was not for this sort of thing that I crossed the Atlantic with you; and you had bettor make our relations more agreeable if you wish me to make them permanent.”
“You to make them permanent? I do not understand.”
“I shall not shrink from explaining myself. If your husband’s suit is undefended, he will obtain a decree which will leave you a single woman in six months. Now, whatever you may think to the contrary, there is not a club in London that would hold me in any way bound to marry you after the manner in which you have behaved. Let me remind you that your future position depends on your present conduct. You have apparently forgotten it.”