"Well, what have you come for if not to buy and sell? Besides," added Peronella, passionately, "I love you, and that is enough. What do I care who you are?"
"If your love were deep, perhaps you would care who I was."
The saying of this sentence was the worst thing Norman ever did in his life. His conscience haunted him for years and never let him forget those dozen careless words and their cynical hypocrisy.
Peronella did not understand him, nor attempt to, but blazed out in a fury, "How dare you come and tell lies and pretend to be what you aren't and deceive us all? It's all lies, you don't care for me one bit, and I am a little fool!" cried Peronella, on the brink of tears and truth.
"How have I deceived you?" said Norman, lamely.
"You never told me who you were. You come and pretend to be what you are not. You make love to me, and now I see you want to run away."
"You never-asked me. I am not running away," said Norman, breathlessly, seeing this card-house toppling.
"I ask you now."
"Look here," said the hypocrite. "Listen to me and trust me. No, you know I am not lying to you. Look into my eyes and see. I ask just one thing of you. Wait three months and you shall have an answer and know who I am."
"Don't tell more lies and talk more nonsense, species of brute," said the girl, savagely.