"You force me to repeat the word—refuse."
"And why?"
"I do not want to marry you."
"You do not love me?"—incredulously.
"I do not love you,"—colouring slightly.
"But I would teach you, Claire"—catching her arm firmly in his hold now and drawing her to him,—"I would teach you. I can give you all and more of wealth and luxury than——"
"Hush! And please let go my arm. If you could give me the world it would make no difference."
"Claire, reconsider it! During the whole of my life I have never really wanted to marry any other woman. I will own that I have flirted and played at love."
"No passport to my favour, I assure you, Lord Quinton."
"Pshaw! I tell you women were all alike to me, all to be amusing and amused with, all so many butterflies till I met you. I won't mind admitting"—making his most fatal step—"that even when I first saw you—and it was not easy to do considering Warwick Howard kept you well in the background—I only thought of your sweet eyes and lovely face. But after—after—Oh, Claire, I learned to love you!"