“If the centuries have taught Europe anything,” he argued, “it is that reason, not passion, should determine marriage. I hold to the wisdom of the ages on the point. I ask you to be my wife. Don’t joke. You cannot refuse me.”
Virginia rose with decision.
“But I do refuse you.”
The banker was too surprised to speak for a moment. It was incredible. That a girl with a paltry dowry of a hundred thousand should refuse his offer of millions, his palace in New York, his estates in Europe—a feeling of blind rage choked him.
“You cannot mean it?” his cold voice clicked.
“Such high honor is not for me,” she firmly replied. “I do not intend to marry—”
He studied her with keen eyes, rubbed his glasses and readjusted them again.
“You will accept the position I offer without marriage?” he asked eagerly.
Her face went white and her body stiffened.
“If you will call the car please—I will go—”