“Do you think I want him to marry me against his will?”
“But why should it be against his will? Kyrios Loukas was glad enough for Narkissos to marry one of us, though he had to make a fuss about the dowry——” She stopped abruptly. The crowning shame, her suggestion that Armitage might be induced to marry Danaë without a dowry, must be discreetly concealed, for by immemorial custom, a Striote girl whose father refused without due cause to provide for her had the right of appeal to the people in public assembly against the insult put upon her, and such an exposure would not suit Prince Christodoridi.
“It’s not a question of dowry!” cried Danaë. “Would you have cared to marry Narkissos if you knew he didn’t want you?”
“Of course, if I wanted him,” said the practical Angeliké. “And you want the English lord; you know you do.”
“I don’t! I don’t! I don’t want to marry anyone.”
“But that’s silly. You have got to be married. What else could become of you?”
“In Europe women do all sorts of things now. There are female teachers, and scribes.”
“As if we should ever be allowed to do anything of the kind! Of course, if one had a chance like that of getting away from here, and living where there was something going on, one would not care about getting married. But as it is, we may be thankful that there are bridegrooms to be found for us.”
“I am not! I won’t marry him! I don’t want to.”
“You talk so foolishly,” said Angeliké patiently. “If our father means you to marry Milordo, he will have to take you, and you will have to go to him. And once you are his wife——”