"Why did you telegraph for me to London?"
"Because I thought you might be useful to me, and you have proved useless."
"And if I had proved useful, would you have rewarded me?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Marion, Marion, you are playing with me! Do you mean to say you would have allowed me to hope if I had proved of service in that affair? I did my best. I swear to you I did my best, and if you will only give me your hand now----"
"Thomas Blake, I would have rewarded you by saying that your debt to me had been diminished by one useful act of yours. But my contempt for you would have been just the same. Take your elderly protestations of love to fresh ears. Mine are too old and too weary, and too well acquainted with their value, to care much for them. Go now. When I have need of you again I shall send for you."
"Marion, this is too bad. You are treating me as if I were a dog."
"Worse--much worse. We were intended for one another. Once I would have died for you; now I cannot endure you except when I think you may be of use to me. I shall send for you if I should happen to want you again."
His face grew white, and he set his teeth. They were in the green drawing-room of Kilcash House. The full June sun was flaming abroad on the sea, and shining in through the windows.
"You outrage me. I am not accustomed to be----"