"Please let me go," she requested with supreme dignity, "you are hurting me."
"Not until you hear what I have to say. Will you marry me?"
"Marry you?" She dropped her eyes before his frowning ones. The shoulders which had been thrown so squarely back seemed to yield like her will and drooped forward into softer lines.
"Yes," he tightened his hold on her wrist, "will you?"
"I am a Catholic."
"But isn't there some way around that?" Your man of business believes there is some way around everything.
"No. Divorce and remarriage aren't permitted to us."
"Don't they ever annul a marriage?"
"Not if it has been marriage." A look of misery came over his face. She perceived it and went steadily on. "I had a child once—that died."
He dropped her hand, unconsciously to himself, but she felt it as a clear signal between them.