"Are you mad?" she cried. "Are you trying to buy me?"
"How else should I win even a kind glance?" he answered bitterly.
"You mistake me for a railroad system," she mocked.
"I have never mistaken you for anything but a woman," was the vibrating reply. "The only trouble is that to me you always posture as something else."
His hands were burning upon her wrists, but she showed no resentment.
"Is this the way," she asked, "that Americans woo? Do they imprison the lady of their choice in some retired spot and make a cash offer for their affections? You are at least original, Mr. Thain!"
"If I can't bring myself to ask you in plain words what I am craving for," he answered hoarsely, "you can guess why. I know very well that there is only one thing about me that counts in your eyes. I know that I should be only an appendage to the money that would make your father happy and Mandeleys free. And yet I don't care. I want you—you first, and then yourself."
"You have some faith, then, in your eligibility—and your methods of persuasion?" she observed.
"Haven't I reason?" he retorted. "You people here are all filled up with rotten, time-exploded notions, bound with silken bonds, worshippers of false gods. You don't see the truth—you don't know it. I am not sure that I blame you, for it's a beautiful slavery, and but for the ugly realities of life you'd prosper in it and have children just as wonderful and just as ignorant. But, you see, the times are changing. I am one of the signs of them."
"If this were an impersonal discussion," Letitia began, struggling to compose her voice—