‘I shall ask it,’ said the dogged John, ‘till it comes to be answered one way or another.’
‘It has been answered almost often enough to my way of thinking,’ said Bertha.
She had never been tart with Thistlewood until that moment, but he manifested no surprise or emotion of any kind.
‘It never has been answered, an’ never will be till I see thee married, whether to me or another. When that day come to pass you’ve heard the last of my question.’
Thus the dogged John; and he being disposed of for a while, came Lane. To him the persecuted maid was a little less severe than she had been, but she was inexorable.
‘If you like to come here as a friend, Mr. Protheroe, in a few months’ time, I daresay we shall all be very glad to see you.’
‘Well,’ said Lane, with fine irrelevance, ‘as an enemy this is a house I shall never make a call at. But look at the matter for a minute, my darling——’
‘You must not talk to me like that, Mr. Protheroe,’ Bertha said, with great coldness.
‘Like what, my dear?’ asked the ingenious Lane.
‘Like that, Mr. Protheroe,’ replied Bertha.