“What you may need is a spanking!” he suggested coolly.
“Good heavens, Jim!–––”
“But I’m afraid you’re not likely to get it. And what is going to happen to you––and to me––I don’t know––I don’t know, Palla.”
“May I prophesy?”
“Go to it, Miriam.”
“Behold, then: I shall never care for any man more than I care now for you; I shall never care more for you than I do now.... And if you are sweet-tempered and sensible, we shall be very happy with each other.... Even after you marry.... Unless your wife misunderstands–––”
“My wife!” he repeated derisively.
“Miss Sharrow, for instance.”
He turned a dull red; the girl’s heart missed a beat, then hurried a little before it calmed again under her cool recognition and instant disdain of the first twinge of jealousy she could remember since childhood.
The absurdity of it, too! After all, it was this man’s destiny to marry. And, if it chanced to be that girl–––