"... when she might, if she chose, marry a delightful man with a fine old English title who would...."
Mrs. Waddington broke off. There had come back to her the memory of that scene in Madame Eulalie's office.
Molly seized the opportunity afforded by her unexpected silence to make a counter-attack.
"I wouldn't marry Lord Hunstanton if he were the last man in the world."
"Honey," said Sigsbee H. in a low, pleading voice, "I don't think I'd sell that necklace if I were you."
"Of course I shall sell it. We shall need the money when we are married."
"You are not going to be married," said Mrs. Waddington, recovering. "I should have thought any right-minded girl would have despised this wretched Finch. Why, the man appears to be so poor-spirited that he didn't even dare to come here and tell me this awful news. He left it to you...."
"George was not able to come here. The poor pet has been arrested by a policeman."
"Ha!" cried Mrs. Waddington triumphantly. "And that is the sort of man you propose to marry! A gaol-bird!"
"Well, I think it shows what a sweet nature he has. He was so happy at being engaged that he suddenly stopped at Fifty-Ninth Street and Fifth Avenue and started giving away dollar-bills to everybody who came by. In about two minutes there was a crowd stretching right across to Madison Avenue, and the traffic was blocked for miles, and they called out the police-reserves, and George was taken away in a patrol-wagon, and I telephoned to Hamilton Beamish to go and bail him out and bring him along here. They ought to arrive at any moment."