“Not for advice. I just want to know what you think.”
“About what—definitely?”
“Whether I should marry Andree?”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“So many reasons.... There’s my mother. There’s the vestibule of the Presbyterian church, if you know what I mean.” She nodded her understanding. “There are all the things that have come down from Plymouth Rock.... There is something in me, something I can’t get rid of, that is a result of all these things, which makes me hold back from marrying a girl who—with whom I have—who has been to me what Andree has been.... And there is you.” He uttered the last sentence defiantly.
“That isn’t fair—it isn’t fair! You have no business to say such a thing to me.... You’re the most tremendously selfish man I have ever met.”
“Selfish!”
“In this whole thing you are thinking of nobody but yourself. You haven’t thought of Andree—and then you—you say such things without—considering me.”
“I do think of Andree,” he said, quickly. “I’m afraid—for her. I can’t bear to think of making her unhappy.... And you—It’s a confused mess, Maude!...” He leaned across the table. “Maude, if there was no other woman in my life—if Andree were a thing of the past—would you marry me?”
She stared at him, biting her lips. “Ken Ware,” she said, “that is the most impertinent—and selfish—question a man ever asked.... Don’t ever do it again! Don’t ever mention such a thing again! The idea! You want to have your cake and eat it, too. You’re always at it—carrying on a sort of left-handed courtship with me.... Always hinting—and—and playing safe. If you decide you don’t want this other girl, then you want to have me all prepared to fall into your arms.... I won’t stand it. Never dare speak of it again—until you can come to me honestly and say that you love me—and that there is no other woman in your life—and that you want me to marry you. Then I’ll tell you whether I will or not.... Do you understand?”