Mrs. Fitzherbert knew that she was very cruel. It was plain that he wished with all his might to accept his release. He suffered the torture of Tantalus, for escape lay within his easy reach, and he had not the effrontery to take it. He was a man who lived for the noble gesture, and he could not bring himself to make one that was uncommonly prosaic.
“I assure you no one shall know anything about it,” she added. “I promise you I will be as silent as the grave.”
He looked at her with an indecision that was almost pitiful.
“If I accepted your suggestion you’d despise me all your life,” he said.
There was something in his tone that made Mrs. Fitzherbert think she had gone far enough. He was really suffering this time, and she could not bear to see it. She went up to him quickly, and smiling, put her hands on his shoulders.
“My dear man, do you suppose for a moment that I had any intention of marrying you? Nothing would have induced me to do it.”
“What do you mean?” he cried.
“I’ve reached an age when I can’t imagine that it would be worth while sacrificing five thousand a year for any man. Besides, you’re charming as a friend, but as a husband you’d be quite insufferable. I wouldn’t marry you if I were starving and you had all the wealth of Golconda.”
“D’you mean to say you’ve been playing with me all the time?”
“I’m afraid that is precisely what it comes to.”