"And that was why you——"
"Yes." Her voice was scarcely audible now.
"It wasn't true, then, that you didn't love me?"
Alden Confesses
She turned upon him fiercely. "What right have you to ask me all these questions?" she cried, passionately. "What have you to offer me? How can you take all I have to give and give me nothing in return? What is your love worth? What do you think I am? The plaything of an idle hour, something to be taken up or cast aside whenever you may choose, to be treated kindly or brutally as your fancy may dictate, to be insulted by your pity—by what you call your love? No, a thousand times no!"
His face was very white and his mouth twitched, but in a moment he had gained, in a measure, his self-control. "I don't blame you in the least, Rosemary. I deserve it all, I know. But, before you condemn me utterly, will you listen to me for a few moments?"
She assented, by the merest inclination of her head.
"I want to be honest with you," he went on, clearing his throat, "and I want to be honest with myself. No doubt you think I'm all kinds of a cad, and rightly so, but, at least, I've been honest—that is, I've tried to be.
"When I asked you to marry me, early in the Spring, I meant it, just as I mean it now, and I was glad when you said you would. Then—she came.
"I had nothing whatever to do with her coming, in fact, I protested against it, as mother will tell you if you ask her. I didn't know her, and I didn't want her, but after I knew her——"