"On the grounds of Miss Kitty—Katty—Llewellington—or whatever her name is."
Mallory was groggy with punishment, and the vain effort to foresee her next blow. "But you can't name a woman that way," he pleaded, "for just being nice to me before I ever met you."
"That's the worst kind of unfaithfulness," she reiterated. "You should have known that some day you would meet me. You should have saved your first love for me."
"But last love is best," Mallory interposed, weakly.
"Oh, no, it isn't, and if it is, how do I know I'm to be your last love? No, sir, when I've divorced you, you can go back to your first love and go round the world with her till you get dizzy."
"But I don't want her for a wife," Mallory urged, "I want you."
"You'll get me—but not for long. And one other thing, I want you to get that bracelet away from that creature. Do you promise?"
"How can I get it away?"
"Take it away! Do you promise?"
Mallory surrendered completely. Anything to get Marjorie safely into his arms: "I promise anything, if you'll really marry me."