Marion smiled that strange smile again.
“Then, if I could bring you plenty of money, and assure of my undisputed right to a good position in society, you would perhaps do me the honor to make me your wife?”
“Yes—I suppose I might,” he replied, hesitatingly.
“And you will not do that act of justice to save the woman you have professed to love ‘better than your own life’ from the shame and disgrace that must surely come upon her without?”
“I cannot; I——”
“What hinders you?” she interrupted, with an imperative gesture.
His face assumed a dogged expression.
“The determination to be rich and move in the highest circles,” he said, his tone assuming something of defiance.
“Then you are not rich now—you do not rightly belong to the high sphere that is accredited to you—you are only a poor, miserable fortune-hunter after all—a sham and impostor!” she cried, with biting sarcasm and indignation.
He flushed even more hotly than before; his gaze wavered and fell beneath the scorn in her eye, and he stood revealed in his real character before her.