“Look here, Violet,” he said, “you know very well that we arranged all that between ourselves.”
“Arranged all that?” she repeated, with a little laugh. “Perhaps we did. You asked me to marry you, and you posed as my fiancee. You kept it up just as long as you—it suits me to keep it up a little longer.”
“Do you mean to say—do you seriously mean that you expect me to marry you?” he asked, aghast.
“I do,” she admitted. “I have meant you to for some time, Peter!”
She was very alluring, and Peter Ruff hesitated. She held out her hands and leaned towards him. Her muff fell to the floor. She had raised her veil, and a faint perfume of violets stole into the carriage. Her lips were a little parted, her eyes were saying unutterable things.
“You don’t want me to sue you, do you, Peter?” she murmured.
Peter Ruff sighed—and yielded.
CHAPTER X. WONDERFUL JOHN DORY
The woman who had been Peter Ruff’s first love had fallen upon evil days. Her prettiness was on the wane—powder and rouge, late hours, and excesses of many kinds, had played havoc with it, even in these few months. Her clothes were showy but cheap. Her boots themselves, unclean and down at heel, told the story. She stood upon the threshold of Peter Ruff’s office, and looked half defiantly, half doubtfully at Violet, who was its sole occupant.