“Lives here?”
“Yes; he has gone to town to get things for our wedding.”
“What kind of a fellow is he?”
“A fool.”
“And you would rather marry him than me?”
“Yes; because you are not one.”
“That is a novel reason for refusing to marry a man,” he said, leaning his elbow on the table and watching her keenly.
“It is a wise one,” she said shortly. “If I marry him I shall shake him off my hand when it suits me. If I remained with him for twelve months he would never have dared to kiss my hand. As far as I wish he should come, he comes, and no further. Would you ask me what you might and what you might not do?”
Her companion raised the moustache with a caressing movement from his lip and smiled. It was not a question that stood in need of any answer.
“Why do you wish to enter on this semblance of marriage?”