Well, she wasn't claiming to be an angel! She'd hate to be one. It would be too dull. But she was just as far from being a "Vamp," or even a sort of up-to-date Becky Sharp. Becky Sharp had no heart. She, Marise, had too much. That was the trouble. She was hurt, hurt through and through! She'd go mad if she didn't do something desperate.
To marry this Garth man—actually marry him!—would be desperate enough. She'd said that she'd do it. She had—yes, actually proposed to him. But she could change her mind. Surely he wouldn't be surprised if she did. And if he were surprised it didn't matter, except that—he was such a strange sort of fellow, he might kill her! It was rather a wonder he hadn't killed Tony—or tried to. She would somehow have fancied he was that sort! But she must have been mistaken in him. Mums said that Tony'd said (through the 'phone) that Garth had accepted the promise of a million dollars for—for being what she'd herself invited him to be: her "dummy" husband.
What was his motive? Was it what she had actually believed: that he loved her so wildly he'd do anything to get her? Or was Tony right; had every man his price in hard cash?
Marise sat up in bed. She couldn't lie still!
"By Jove, I wouldn't do such a thing if I were a man!" she nobly felt. "Not if I loved a girl. I wouldn't have her on such terms. Which is it with Garth?"
There it was again! She couldn't banish him from her thoughts. His big image blocked out that of Severance. But then, she wasn't curious concerning Severance. She knew all about his motives.
"I won't do the beastly thing!" she said out aloud, or almost aloud. If it had been quite, it might have brought Mums flying helpfully in from the next room, and Marise didn't want Mums at this moment. "I didn't mean it really, even at first."
Then she reminded herself that it wouldn't kill her if people did think that Lord Severance had jilted her. She needn't marry out of pique because of a nine days' wonder like that. She had had plenty of proposals (though nothing quite so exciting as Tony, perhaps), and she was bound to have plenty more. Some millionaire would come along—someone she could bring herself to tolerate as a real husband, and so break Tony's heart, as he deserved. Till one worth taking appeared, she would remain free.
As for the title—well, Mums had always cared more about that than she had, though, of course, it would be nice to marry an earl—especially such a unique sort of earl as Tony Severance.
As Mums said, "Tony was unique." He was so fearfully, frightfully good-looking. Such lots of girls wanted him. They had all envied her. If she lost him, they wouldn't envy her any more. They'd pity her. Ugh! They'd say, "Poor Marise Sorel thought she'd got him, but he slipped away and married his rich cousin."