‘Then you refuse to marry me?’ she said, rising to her feet.
He bowed his head gently.
‘At present, yes,’ he answered, and replaced the cigarette between his lips.
Kitty stood for a moment as if turned to stone, and then throwing up her hands with a gesture of despair, fell back into the chair, and burst into a flood of tears. Vandeloup shrugged his shoulders in a resigned sort of manner, and glanced at his watch to see when it would be time for him to go. Meanwhile he smoked quietly on, and Kitty, after sobbing for some time, dried her eyes, and sat up in the chair again.
‘How long is this going to last?’ she asked, in a hard voice.
‘Till I get rich!’
‘That may be a long time?’
‘It may.’
‘Perhaps never?’
‘Perhaps!’