I stared at her, “Of all the crazy things!” I said angrily. “This is no time for fooling.”
“But, I’m not fooling,” she said, “you’re marrying me or it’ll be the last thing you refuse me.”
“I’m marrying Myra,” I said, trying to push her away, “Be reasonable for the love of mike. Myra’s desperately ill. She needs you. You can’t refuse to help her.”
“I know all about that,” she said carelessly, “I’ve just come from seeing her. She knew what was happening here and she sent me to get you out of the mess. I agreed on one condition—that she would give you up. Well, she’s given you up. If you want me to save her, you must promise to marry me.”
“I’m not going to,” I said, hardly believing my ears. “Of all the dirty tricks! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“Don’t get upstage,” Aryrn said, putting her face against mine. “I’ll let Peppi handle you, if you don’t play along with me. And I’ll let Myra fend for herself, too.”
I drew a deep breath, “You can’t do this,” I said, “think what it means. You don’t really think you could hold me to such a marriage. Why I’d leave you in a week. What do you think I am—a mouse?”
A look of doubt came into Arym’s eyes, “But, don’t you like me a little?” she pleaded, hugging me to her.
“I like you all right,” I said, “you’ve got everything Myra has except her nice nature. That’s something you’ll never have.”
“I could be nice to you,” she wheedled, “and you would be good for me.” I had a sudden idea.