“Oh, they can’t hear. They’re talking of bills and bonds and lading. I heard them. But Claude, oh! and you professing to love Chris Lisle.”
“I never professed anything of the kind,” cried Claude indignantly.
“Your eyes did; and all the time uncle is engaging you to Mr Glyddyr.”
“Mary! For shame!”
“And in spite of this double-dealing, you must want Mr Trevithick, too?”
“Do you wish to make me angry?”
“Do you wish to make me jealous?”
“Jealous? Absurd!”
“Of course,” cried Mary sharply. “What should a poor little miserable like I am know of love or jealousy or heartaches, and the rest of it?”
“My dear coz,” whispered Claude, placing an arm round her, “I shall never understand you.”