“Yes, my dear, when we’ve settled the wedding-day,” said Richard.
“We cannot settle that now, Richard,” said Eve.
“And why not, pray?”
“Because,” she said, with her heart beating and her voice faltering, “I cannot forget for certainly a year or two, that which has taken place during the past few weeks.”
“What?” he shouted.
“I think you understand me, Richard,” said the girl, quietly, and making no effort now to free the wrist he so tightly held.
“Yes,” he said, flushing with passion, “I do understand. You wish to throw me over because you have been angling for and catching that cursed intriguing parson.”
“Richard!” cried Eve, turning red and stamping her foot upon the ground, “I will not stop and listen to such language.”
“And in a passion, too,” he said, mockingly, “because her favourite is spoken of; but it won’t do, madam. You’re promised to me, and I wish the wedding to take place as soon as it can. Don’t you think I’m going to let that beggarly meddling priest come between us.”
“This is as cowardly as it is unjustifiable, Richard,” exclaimed Eve.