But she was not to escape from him so easily. He caught her by the arm.
"Miss Strong, don't go--not for a moment. There is something which I particularly wish to say to you."
"What there is, Mr. Lawrence, which you can particularly wish to say to me I am unable to conceive."
"I fear that may be so, Miss Strong. But there is something, all the same. These are early days in which to say it; and the moment is not the most propitious I could have chosen. But circumstances are stronger than I. I have a feeling that it must be now or never. You know very little of me, Miss Strong. Probably you will say you know nothing--that I am, to all intents and purposes, a stranger. But I know enough of you to know that I love you: that you are to me what no woman has ever been before, or will ever be again. And what I particularly wish to say to you is to ask you to be my wife."
His words were so wholly unexpected, that, for the moment, they took the lady's breath away. He spoke quietly, even coldly; but, in his coldness there was a vibrant something which was suggestive of the heat of passion being hidden below, while the very quietude of his utterance made his words more effective than if he had shouted them at the top of his voice. It was a second or two before the startled lady answered.
"What you have said takes me so completely by surprise that I hardly know whether or not you are in earnest."
"I am in earnest, I assure you. That I am mad in saying it, I am quite aware; how mad, even you can have no notion. But I had to say it, and it's said. If you would only be my wife, you would do a good deed, of the magnitude of which you have no conception. There is nothing in return which I would not do for you. On this occasion in saying so I do not think that I am using an empty form of words."
"As you yourself pointed out, you are a stranger to me; nor have I any desire that you should be anything but a stranger."
"Thank you, Miss Strong."
"You brought it upon yourself."