"No."
"In that case, of course you can't marry him," he smiled.
"I--don't--want--to marry him!"
"Then how about me? Do you love me?"
The crimson tide flooded her face, and she flashed on him a look of surprised reproach, but she did not leave the room with the haughty air that would have been the proper sequel to such a look, for the simple but sufficient reason that by this time he was holding both her hands.
"Is there any least possibility of your caring for me? I have been fathoms deep in love with you for--for ages! I don't know when it began! It has always been! Oh, if you have hated the idea of marrying Philip half as much as I have hated the idea that you would! Leslie!" The way in which he spoke her name really left nothing more to be said.
Somewhat later they came back into the story. She drew a little away to look into Burton's face with dismay on her own.
"But poor Philip! How can we ever tell him?"
"Leave that to me," said Burton, with a queer laugh.