“When I am, the somebody, whoever he is, will have to sweep me away like a whirlwind—”
“Why: What do you mean?”
“I can’t stand the hesitation, the thinking about it. I invariably begin to repent, and if he hesitates—he is lost.”
Mrs Martyn opened her eyes roundly.
“So that is your theory? I hardly thought you owned one.”
Anne went on as if she had not spoken.
“I mean to marry, and it appears that I have not the power of falling in love. If I take the leap I must do it at a gallop. Now do you understand?”
“A little. This last man, did he represent a whirlwind? My dear, you let it go too far with him, and he could not be expected, poor fellow, to see the absurdity as we all saw it.”
Anne’s eyes darkened.
“There was no absurdity. If I had cared a little more, I would have married him.”