She sat down again, sighing. "My attempt to regain my old power over you has not been very successful, has it, David? We must not quarrel, though"—holding out her hand, which he grasped. "And you won't question me any more?" She said it appealingly.
"Never again," he answered. "I never wanted to question you, Grizel. I wanted only to marry you."
"And that can't be."
"I don't see it," he said, so stoutly that she was almost amused. But he would not be pushed aside. He had something more to say.
"Dr. McQueen wished it," he said; "above all else in the world he wished it. He often told me so."
"He never said that to me," Grizel replied quickly.
"Because he thought that to press you was no way to make you care for me. He hoped that it would come about."
"It has not come about, David, with either of us," she said gently. "I am sure that would have been sufficient answer to him."
"No, Grizel, it would not, not now."
He had risen, and his face was whiter than she had ever seen it.