"My little girl, my own little girl! But she won't have you back except on her own terms; she only wants you in order to get you well married, to have the éclat and fuss and glory of a great marriage; that's her object. You have refused Hawtrey; I doubt if she'll forgive that."
I was clinging close to him, I was holding his hand.
"Can't we both leave her?" I whispered. "Can't we go away and be very poor together, and forget the world?"
"Child, there is your lover, Carbury."
I gave a quick, sharp sigh.
"I can't think of him now," I said.
"Oh, child, he proposed for you, knowing everything."
"I won't marry him," I said, "I am going to stay with you in that worst prison."