“No, no, no!” she exclaimed, rebelliously.
Now, however, the young man had regained some measure of reassurance.
“I know you do, Mary,” he asserted, confidently; “a little, anyway. Why, Mary,” he went on reproachfully, “can't you see that you're throwing away everything that makes life worth while? Don't you see that?”
There was no word from the girl. Her breast was moving convulsively. She held her face steadfastly averted from the face of her husband.
“Why don't you answer me?” he insisted.
Mary's reply came with all the coldness she could command.
“That was not in the bargain,” Mary said, indifferently.
The man's voice grew tenderly winning, persuasive with the longing of a lover, persuasive with the pity of the righteous for the sinner.
“Mary, Mary!” he cried. “You've got to change. Don't be so hard. Give the woman in you a chance.”
The girl's form became rigid as she fought for self-control. The plea touched to the bottom of her heart, but she could not, would not yield. Her words rushed forth with a bitterness that was the cover of her distress.