“Why did she do that?” said Jim.
“I had been telling them how much I loved you, and poor dear mother was afraid you might be scared away if you knew how poor my people are.”
“What kind of a ghastly snob do they take me for?” Jim growled.
“They don't know you as I do,” said Kedzie; “but even I can't expect you to forgive everything. I've lied to you about everything except about loving you, and I was a long while telling you the truth about that. But now you know all there is to know about me, and I wouldn't blame you for despising me. Of course I don't expect you to want to marry me any longer, so I'll give you back your beautiful engagement ring.”
With her arms across his knees, one of her delicate hands began to draw from the other a gold circlet knobbed with diamonds.
“Don't do that,” Jim said, taking her hands in his. “The engagement stands.”
“But how can it, darling?” said Kedzie. “You can't love me any more.”
“Of course I do, more and more.”
“But you can never marry me, and surely you don't want—”
Suddenly she ran plump into the situation her mother had imagined and encouraged. She blushed at the collision with it, and became a very allegory of innocence confronted with abhorrent evil.