“No,” said Bram obstinately. “I’m not angry with you for marrying Miss Hibbs. I’m angry because you’re not marrying the girl you love, the girl you’ve taught to love you.”
“Same thing, Bram. I can’t marry them both, you know.”
Bram shook his arm free angrily.
“Mr. Christian, we won’t talk about this no more,” said he in a voice which was hoarse, and strained, and unlike his own. “I might say things I shouldn’t like to. Let me go, sir; let me go home, and do you go home and leave me alone.”
“No, I won’t leave you till we’ve threshed the matter out. Be reasonable, Bram. You know as well as I do that I’m dependent on my father——”
“You knew that all along. But you said, you told me——”
“I told you that I wanted to marry my cousin Claire. Well, so I did. But my father wouldn’t hear of it; apart from the objection he has to the marriage of cousins——”
“That’s new, that is,” put in Bram shortly.
“Apart from that, I say, he wouldn’t have anything to say to the match for a dozen reasons. You know that. And, knowing how I’m placed, it is highly ridiculous of you to make all this fuss, especially as you, no doubt, intend to use the opportunity to cut in yourself.”
His tone changed, and Bram detected real pique, real jealousy in these last words.