"I can give you an hour, if you've anything to say before it's done—not longer."
She drew a long breath.
"Mr. Bines, are you mad? Can't you be rational?"
"I haven't been irrational, I give you my word, not once since I came here."
He looked at her steadily. All at once he saw her face go crimson. She turned her eyes from his with an effort.
"I'm going back to Montana in the morning. I want you to marry me to-night—I won't even wait one more day—one more hour. I know it's a thing you never dreamt of—marrying a poor man. You'll look at it as the most disgraceful act of folly you could possibly commit, and so will every one else here—but you'll do it. To-morrow at this time you'll be half-way to Chicago with me."
"Mr. Bines,—I'm perfectly reasonable and serious—I mean it—are you quite sure you didn't lose your wits when you lost your money?"
"It may be considered a witless thing to marry a girl who would marry for money—but never mind that—I'm used to taking chances."
She glanced up at him, curiously.
"You know I'm to marry Mr. Shepler the tenth of next month."