The face of Marcus became troubled, as though he were reasoning with himself, as though he wished to take her at her word and go, yet could not.
“Is it ended?” asked Miriam presently, considering him with her quiet eyes.
“I think not; I think it is but begun. Miriam, I love you.”
“Marcus,” she answered steadily, “I do not think I should be asked to listen to such words.”
“Why not? They have always been thought honest between man and woman.”
“Perhaps, when they are meant honestly, which in this case can scarcely be.”
He grew hot and red. “What do you mean? Do you suppose——”
“I suppose nothing, Captain Marcus.”
“Do you suppose,” he repeated, “that I would offer you less than the place of wife?”
“Assuredly not,” she replied, “since to do so would be to insult you. But neither do I suppose that you really meant to offer me that place.”