“But what?”
“I am afraid he wants me to marry Mr. Shel-den. He does not say so, but I know.” And she began to cry again, clinging to Philip the while. “I know it! I know it! and unless you save me I shall be forced into it. I can't stand black looks and constant coercion. I shall yield. I know I shall, and my whole life will be ruined.”
“So that's it, is it?” Philip's voice was hoarse and dry. “So that's it? That's what it signifies? He wants to get me out of the road, does he?” And after a brief pause: “Do you like him in the least, Barbara?”
“I hate him.”
“He has money and all that sort of thing.”
“It's nothing to me. I can only care for you.”
“Has your father made any positive statement of his preference, Barbara?”
She shook her head. “Of course he does not speak of it, but I know.”
“Well, I'll go in for work harder than ever, dear—we need not despair, for we are sure of each other.”
“But—but—if I don't see you——”