The beautiful face expressed surprise and incredulity, rather than anger, and Eunice’s voice was gentle. In such a mood, she was even more attractive than in her more vivacious moments.
Unable to control himself, Hendricks took a step toward her, and folded her in his arms.
She made no effort to disengage herself, but said, in a tone of utter disdain, “Let me go, Alvord; you bore me.”
As she had well known, this angered him far more than angry words would have done.
He released her instantly, but his face was blazing with indignation.
“Oh, I do—do I? And who can make love to you, and not bore you? Elliott?”
“You are still forgetting yourself.”
“I am not! I am thinking of myself only. Oh, Eunice—dear Eunice, I have loved you so long and I have been good. All the time you were Sanford’s wife, I never so much as called you ‘dear’—never gave you even a look that wasn’t one of respect for my friend’s wife. But now—now, that you are free—I have a right to woo you. It is too soon—yes, I know that—but I will wait—wait as long as you command, if you’ll only promise me that I may—sometime—”
“Never! I told you that before—I do not want to be obliged to repeat it! Please understand, once for all, I have no love to give you—”
“Because it is another’s! Eunice—tell me you do not care for Elliott—and I won’t say another word—now. I’ll wait patiently—for a year—two years—as long as you wish—only give me the assurance that you will not marry Mason Elliott.”