"No."
"Well, it looks just like it sounds. We got a little house, and the old lady is happy, and I feel so good that I can even stand her cookin'. Of course, we ain't makin' much money, but I guess I'm getting a little old-fashioned around theatres, anyway. The fellows from newspapers and colleges have got it on me. Last time I asked a man for a job he asked me what I knew about the Greek drama, and when I told him I didn't know the Greeks had a theatre in New York, he slipped me a laugh and told me to come in again on some rainy Tuesday. Then Gallipolis showed on the map, and I beat it for the West."
Noticing that his words had hurt her, he stopped, and in an embarrassed kind of way went on:
"Sorry if I hurt ye—didn't mean to; and now that yer goin' to be Mrs. Brockton, well, I take back all I said, and while I don't think I want to change my position, I wouldn't turn it down for—for that other reason, that's all."
"But, Mr. Weston, I'm not going to be Mrs. Brockton!" she cried hastily, with a note of defiance in her voice.
"No?" he exclaimed in surprise.
"No."
"Oh—oh——"
"I'm going to marry another man, and a good man."
"The h—ll you are!"