Severance laughed out—a bitter laugh. "This is the way you greet me after all I've gone through to get to you—and to get you!" he said. "You know, I am going to get you."
Marise did not answer. She knew nothing of the kind. All she knew was, quite suddenly, that there was no longer any doubt in her mind on one subject. She did not love Tony! She was sorry for him, and sorry for herself, and sorry for everything in the world. But she did not love him. She disliked having him touch her.
"You do know it, don't you?" he insisted.
"No, I don't," she stammered. "There—there's nothing to know."
"Are you acting a part with me?" Severance flung at her. "Or what has come over you, Marise? One would think you in reality the virtuous married woman, keeping the tertium quid at arm's length——"
"Well, I am a married woman. And—and I'm not unvirtuous!" she defied him, through her heart-beats. "Things have changed, Tony——"
"Why—because I've got a million dollars less than you expected me to have?"
The girl sprang to her feet, tingling and trembling. Severance jumped up also, and belted her slim waist with his hot hands. He thought that this was the way to regain her—that by grasping her body he might seize her elusive spirit. It was all that Marise could do not to scream, "Help! Help!" like an early-Victorian heroine. She bit back the cry of primitive womanhood, but to her intense surprise, and even horror, she found herself landing a rousing box on Tony's ear.
"You vixen!" he blurted.
"Cad!" she retorted.