“Yes; or he may have used her as a tool.”
“Not Florence Lloyd. She's nobody's tool.”
“Any woman might be a tool at the command of the man she loves. But,” I went on, with an air of conviction which was not entirely genuine, “Miss Lloyd doesn't love Mr. Hall.”
“I don't know about that,” returned Parmalee; “you can't tell about a woman like Florence Lloyd. If she doesn't love him, she's at least putting up a bluff of doing so.”
“I believe it is a bluff, though I'm sure I don't know why she should do that.”
“On the other hand, why shouldn't she? For some reason she's dead set on marrying him, ready to give up her fortune to do so, if necessary. He must have some sort of a pretty strong hold on her.”
“I admit all that, and yet I can't believe she loves him. He's such a commonplace man.”
“Commonplace doesn't quite describe him. And yet Gregory Hall, with all the money in the world, could never make himself distinguished or worth while in any way.”
“No; and what would Miss Florence Lloyd see in a man like that, to make her so determined to marry him?”
“I don't think she is determined, except that Hall has some sort of hold over her,—a promise or something,—that she can't escape.”