"Unless you make up with me," he said in a low voice. "I'm not so bad, Maisie, and I'll treat you fair. I've always been in love with you——"
"Stop," she said quietly. "I dare say it is a great honour for a girl that any man should be in love with her, but it takes away a little of the compliment when the man is already married."
"That's nothing," he said eagerly. "I can divorce her by the laws of my country. Maisie, she hates me and I hate her."
"In those circumstances," she smiled, "I wonder you wait until you fall in love again before you get divorced. No, Mr. Silva, that story doesn't convince me. If you were single or divorced, or if you were ever so eligible, I would not marry you."
"Why not?" he demanded truculently. "I've got money."
"So have I," she said, "of a sort."
"My money's as clean as yours, if it is Solomon White's money."
She nodded.
"I'm well aware of that, too," she said. "It is Gang money, isn't it—loot money. I don't see what good I shall get out of exchanging mine for yours, anyway. It is just as dirty. The money doesn't come into it at all, Mr. Silva, it is just liking people well enough—for marriage. And I don't like you that way."
"You don't like me at all," he growled.