She laughed nervously, and Kent-Lauriston pursued his subject.
"Then he's so indefatigable at balls and parties; I've known him to stay half an hour, when he's been feeling fit! His friends, too, such dear old fogies, like your esteemed aunt, not like your friends—you know how fond he is of them. The Kingslands and Darcys of your acquaintance would simply revel in the house of a man who never plays cards for money, and can't tell an eighty from a ninety-eight champagne—and he'd be master in his own house, too—you received an ultimatum yesterday. A man who will do that to a woman to whom he isn't even quite engaged will command his wife and see that she obeys him. You would have before you the choice of living in an atmosphere and associating with people entirely uncongenial to you, or living wholly apart from your husband; either would be intolerable. Have I proved my point?"
"You've forgotten to include in your charming sketch that I should still have the comforts of life, and, what is more important, a house to cover me, enough to eat and drink, and clothes to wear—things which I have sometimes in the past found it pretty difficult to obtain."
"True, but you'd be paying too high a price for them, much too high. Take my word for it, again and again you'd long to be back in your present state; yes, and in harder straits than you are now."
"What you say to me could be equally well applied to Mr. Stanley, in reverse."
"Quite so; it sums up in the mere fact, that you two have nothing in common except passion and sentimentality, very frail corner stones on which to build a life's happiness. You're not even companionable. What are you going to talk about for the rest of your lives? It's an appalling prospect. I want to save you both from making a very bad bargain."
"I don't agree with you," she cried vehemently, springing to her feet, "not at all; but what difference does it make? I know well enough I'm not really to be consulted as to the issue; you'd never have had the effrontery to speak to me as you have done, if you were not already sure of the game. To use a commercial phrase, you've cornered the market, and can make what terms you please. I must accede to them."
"You entirely mistake the situation, Miss Fitzgerald," he said, calmly rising, and facing her. "It is you who have cornered the market, and it is I who must buy at your price."
"Explain yourself! What do you mean?" she cried, a gleam of hope, almost of triumph, lighting up her face.
Kent-Lauriston was now playing a bold game.