She shrank from him now with a look of disgust, and shivered as she thought of the past, but recovering herself she turned upon him.
“How dare you!” she cried, with a look intended to keep him at bay.
Caleb laughed.
“Well, you are a strange girl,” he said; “hot one day, cold the next. But I don’t care; say what you like, dear.”
Marjorie started as if she had been stung at this last word, for, more than anything which had passed, it made her feel how she had fallen.
“You want to play with me and hold me off; and you are going to say you didn’t mean it.”
With an action quick as that of some wild creature, he caught her wrist again, and looked at her mockingly, but with a flashing in his eyes which made her shiver and glance quickly round.
“No,” he said, with a laugh; “no one can see. But, look here,” he whispered earnestly, “I’ve been thinking about you ever since. You don’t care for them here, and their money and fine clothes. Come away along with me—it’ll be free like—right away from everyone who knows you, and I’ll be real good to you, dear, ’pon my soul I will.”
“Loose my wrist! How dare you!” cried Marjorie; and in her alarm she wondered now that she could have been so mad with one whom she thought she could sway with a look, but who was beginning to sway her.
“How dare I? because you like me to hold you,” he whispered. “Do you think I’m a fool? Look here; you used to love him, but you hate him now, and you love me. Well, I used to love Hayle’s girl; I was mad after her, but since I’ve seen you I don’t care a straw for her, not even if I never see her again.”