“I don’t in the least care,” she declared.
He said sternly: “Now, my friend, I’m getting just a little tired of this. You’ve always had your own way. You are piqued because you can’t make a fool of me. So, you are willing to go to any lengths. I understand you perfectly.”
Her gaze was steady and earnest—not at all proper for a public place. “Do you think I’m simply coquetting? Don’t you realize that I’m in earnest?”
“Perhaps you think you are,” admitted he. “You’re so wrought up by your game of make-believe that you have partly convinced yourself. Luckily, I remain cool.”
“If I were a poor girl you wouldn’t act like this!”
“How did I act when I thought you were a poor girl?”
That silenced her for the moment. He went on: “You and I are going to be as good friends as our separate lots permit. And you are going to marry in your own class—are going to do your duty. I’ll admit I did think it strange that a girl like you should be deliberately marrying for money. But at that time I thought you were poor. Now that I have seen what your life is, I don’t blame you. I can see how you simply couldn’t give up all this magnificence that has become necessity to you. It’d be like asking me to give up my painting.”
She looked at him with a puzzled expression. “But I’m not marrying to keep it. My father’s much richer than Hank. Hank’s not so very rich.”
Over his dark features slowly crept a look like the fall of a winter evening. “Oh,” said he coldly. “I thought— No matter.”
“What did you think?”