“To me, very! I wish to make a few things plain to you. In the past—I had no intention of hurting or of disgracing you—”
Slotman started, and clenched his hands. What did that man mean? He wondered, what could such words as those mean?
“But as I have shamed and angered you, I have come to offer the only reparation in my power—a poor one, I will admit.”
He looked at her, paused for a moment to give her an opportunity of speaking, but she did not speak. She looked at him steadily.
“May I briefly explain my position? I am practically alone in the world. My home is at Hurst Dormer, one of the finest old buildings in Sussex. I have an income of eight thousand a year.”
“What has this to do with me?”
“Only that I am offering it to you, myself and all I possess. I am asking you to do me the honour of marrying me. It seems to me that it is the one and the only atonement that I can make for what has passed.”
“You are—very generous! And—and you think that I would accept?”
“I hoped that you might consider the offer.”
Slotman gripped at the edge of the table against which he leaned.