'This is really ridiculous,' she said petulantly. 'I suppose you are in fun.'
'In fun!' he echoed dully.
'Yes, you can't really be serious. Think what a fearfully long time we have known each other! I'd as soon think of being married to Bart, or Bill Daly.'
He winced at Daly—big, coarse, uneducated bushman.
'If I waited a long time, couldn't you grow to love me?' he said. 'I could stop doing anything you don't like; I—I would go through the University like James and Walter did, if you liked.'
The exceeding pain in his voice touched the girl's awakening heart.
'Forgive me, Morty,' she said, 'it must seem very horrid of me. I didn't understand myself at first——'
'Perhaps—perhaps——' he began hopefully.
'No, I am sure, quite, quite sure I could never love you,' she said decidedly. 'I shall never marry, I have quite made up my mind. There is no one I could ever care for enough.'
'Have you anything particularly against me?' persisted Mortimer. 'I'd alter anything; you don't know how I would try.' His voice choked.