“She has rather a dull home, and is very poor, and I think she thought on the whole life would be improved if she were Dudley’s wife.”
“And that is not the real sense?” insistently.
“It certainly is not love.”
“Well, you haven’t yet told me what is?”
“I don’t know much about it, and”—hastily—“I don’t want to. When it’s real it hurts, and when it isn’t real it’s just feebleness.”
“Still, you must know some day.”
He liked to see the spot of colour spreading in her cheeks, and the frank eyes growing a little defiant as he pressed her against her will.
“It doesn’t follow that I must. Perhaps I shall just be feeble, and marry for a home and luxuries.”
“Never,” with conviction. “You’ll—Hal, you’ll get it badly when once you’re caught.”
“I never said you might call me ‘Hal’.”