“Miriam!” he exclaimed, and he seemed to stop short in front of her, “I am a hot, impetuous fellow, and I love you passionately, as you know, and have known since the day when first we met. Have I ever given up the pursuit?”
“No,” she said, half-laughingly. “You did not let me rest, nor did our friends, until we were engaged.”
“Of course not. There, come now, you look more like your own dear self. I want to ask you a question.”
“Yes, John. What is it?”
He cleared his voice and hesitated, but only to speak out firmly at last.
“Do you think—have you ever thought me such a cur that I wanted you for the sake of your money?”
“John, this is the second time that you have brought up my fortune to-day. There is no need to answer such a question.”
“But I beg—I desire—I insist upon knowing,” he cried passionately.
“You have your answer in the fact that you are standing before me talking as you are. If I believed for an instant that you had such sordid thoughts, our engagement would be at an end. I would sooner give you the money than be your wife.”
“Of course, yes: of course, my own dear, noble girl!” he cried excitedly. “Then why all this waiting—why keep me at arm’s length? Come now, darling, let us settle it at once.”