“I say it’s all the same to you; but it isn’t to him. No! And I’ll bet that before we part to-night you’ll consent, as he did.”
She looked at him, calmly—questioningly. For a moment there arose in her mind the suspicion that he had been drinking, and he read it in her eyes.
“No, I’m not drunk!” he said, bitterly; “I’m only half mad, driven so by your words and looks! And I mean what I say—you will consent, as he did!”
“Consent to marry you!” said Olivia, stung into retort.
“Yes,” he said, sullenly; “for his sake, if not for mine or yours.”
“For his sake—for my father’s?” she said.
He nodded.
“Yes. Look here, Olivia, we’ve been beating about the bush long enough. You’ve treated me like a dog—yes, you have; or like the dirt under your feet. And I don’t deserve it. No, by God! for I spared the old man——”
“You spared——”
“Yes, I did. I could have told him what a cleft stick I’d got him in, but I didn’t; I knew you wouldn’t like it. I knew you’d rather he remained in ignorance till the affair was over.”