Finally, when the hysterical outburst had somewhat abated, he asked coldly:
"Am I to consider that a refusal?"
"Ye may. What would I be doin', marryin' the likes of you? Answer me that?"
His passion began to dwindle, his ardour to lessen.
"That is final?" he queried.
"Absolutely, completely and entirely final."
Not only did all HOPE die in Mr. Hawkes, but seemingly all REGARD as well.
Ridicule is the certain death-blow to a great and disinterested affection.
Peg's laugh still rang in his ears and as he looked at her now, with a new intelligence, unblinded by illusion, he realised what a mistake it would have been for a man, of his temperament, leanings and achievements to have linked his life with hers. Even his first feeling of resentment passed. He felt now a warm tinge of gratitude. Her refusal—bitter though its method had been—was a sane and wise decision. It was better for both of them.
He looked at her gratefully and said: