“All right, ducky doo! Why shouldn’t you? She’ll be most pleased. But for to-night, you see, you belong to me, and—er—I haven’t seen you for three whole days!”
“Celia, you must believe me. I mean it. I proposed to Lady Anne an hour ago, and she accepted me. We are engaged. I came straight here to tell you.”
The smile faded from Celia’s face. She looked startled and grave, but there was no serious alarm on her face.
“Jack—why?”
He threw out his arms with a gesture of despair.
“Because I can’t endure this life. I’ve missed that case; it has gone past me as usual, to a fellow with influence. There is no hope for a man who has no position, no one behind. It would drive me mad to go on year after year with this hopeless struggle. It is driving me mad now. To-night I felt desperate. I would have given anything in the world to buy my chance, and the opportunity came. I took it. I had not the power to refuse.”
“Poor Jack!” she said softly. “Poor Jack!”
He had expected reproaches, tears, wild protestations. Celia was impetuous by nature, and the peace between them had not been unbroken by storms. He was prepared for violence, but this gentleness played havoc with his composure. His face twitched, he turned towards her with passionate entreaty.
“Celia, I’m a brute, a coward. Nothing that you can say of me is bad enough. You’ve been an angel, and I know, I knew all the time that I hurt you by delaying our marriage. You would have been satisfied with a small beginning; it was I who was not content. I’ve kept you waiting year after year, and now at the end I have sold myself to another woman.”
“You can’t sell what is not your own. You can’t give what is not your own. You belong to me. I’m not going to give you up!”