“Not by Miss Jocelyn herself, certainly!”
“How eager you are to defend her. But am I not—tell me—do I not look like a thorn in company with her?”
“There is but the difference that ill health would make.”
“Ill health? Oh, yes! And Rose is so much better born.”
“To that, I am sure, she does not give a thought.”
“Not Rose? Oh!”
An exclamation, properly lengthened, convinces the feelings more satisfactorily than much logic. Though Evan claimed only the hand-kerchief he had won, his heart sank at the sound. Miss Bonner watched him, and springing forward, said sharply:
“May I tell you something?”
“You may tell me what you please.”
“Then, whether I offend you or not, you had better leave this.”