“Don’t raise your hopes, ma’am! I can be quite as obstinate as you.” He watched her ironically, as she moved towards the door. “Why did you refuse my first offer?” he asked abruptly.
She looked back, magnificent in her scorn. “Yes! You thought I could be bought off, did you not, Mr Ravenscar? You thought you had only to dangle your money-bags before my eyes, and I should be dazzled! Well, I was not dazzled, and I would not touch one penny of your money!”
“If that is so, why am I here?” he inquired.
“The mortgage and those bills are different,” she replied impatiently.
He looked amused. “So it seems.”
“Besides, they are not mine, but my aunt’s.”
“Then why worry about them?”
“You have a very pretty opinion of me, I declare!” she exclaimed. “Not only am I the kind of abominable wretch who would entrap a—” She broke off in some confusion, and said hurriedly: “But there is no talking to you, after all! I shall marry your cousin whenever I choose, and I shall get the mortgage too, and you are at liberty to call me what names you like, for I do not care a button!”
Mr Ravenscar, on whom the first part of this speech had not been lost, sat up, frowning heavily. “Now, what the devil are you playing at, Miss Grantham? So you are not the kind of abominable wretch who would entrap a boy into marriage? Then why in God’s name—”
“Certainly not!” Miss Grantham said, making desperate efforts to retrieve her slip. “There is no question of entrapping Adrian! He is quite devoted to me, I assure you! You will find it very hard to persuade him to give me up.”