And all the time he could not choose but admire her more and more. He wished with all his heart in those moments that he could throw his position and his party overboard, and go to her with a clean slate, and say:
“I have done with serving Mammon. Come to me as my wife, and I will serve you instead.”
And instead he had brought her there to say:
“I cannot give up serving Mammon. I must marry the heiress, but let me be your lover and I will serve you as well.”
And all the time Hal stood there with those resolute, set lips, as erect as a young grenadier.
But all the same he meant to have her if he could, and he remembered of old how often he had found a swift, bold attack won. So he stopped short beside her, and said:
“You know that whatever circumstances compel me to do, all my heart is yours, Hal, and you care a little bit about me. You know you do. Don’t condemn me to outer darkness. Come to me like the sensible little woman you are. No one will ever know, and I can make your life gayer and happier just as long as ever you like.”
She looked at him with a startled, perplexed expression.
“What do you mean?” she asked slowly.
“Now, don’t get angry.”