"What a match for him!" murmured Robert, setting eyes for the first time on Marjorie Armstrong's proud beauty.
"More than a match," said Pryor, softly.
CHAPTER THIRTY
I
"You don't love me, Robert!"
"It's false," he said, retreating. "I do love you. I've loved you madly ever since you fled to Paris."
"Then why do you run away? I don't want you to marry me. You're too poor! But you might at least kiss me. Come back, Robert, please come back!"
Following him, she put her arms around his neck and clasped him tight.
"Let me go, Janet. I won't marry you. I won't! I'll never, never, NEVER marry a woman who has had a free lover!"
Still he receded, and ever so gently tried to unclasp her hands.