Who is this fellow you talk of marrying?"
"A young farmer."
"Lives here?"
"Yes; he has gone to town to get things for our wedding."
"What kind of a fellow is he?"
"A fool."
"And you would rather marry him than me?"
"Yes; because you are not one."
"That is a novel reason for refusing to marry a man," he said, leaning his
elbow on the table and watching her keenly.
"It is a wise one," she said shortly. "If I marry him I shall shake him
off my hand when it suits me. If I remained with him for twelve months he
would never have dared to kiss my hand. As far as I wish he should come,
he comes, and no further. Would you ask me what you might and what you
might not do?"
Her companion raised the moustache with a caressing movement from his lip
and smiled. It was not a question that stood in need of any answer.
"Why do you wish to enter on this semblance of marriage?"
"Because there is only one point on which I have a conscience. I have told
you so."
"Then why not marry me?"
"Because if once you have me you would hold me fast. I shall never be free
again." She drew a long, low breath.
"What have you done with the ring I gave you?" he said.
"Sometimes I wear it; then I take it off and wish to throw it into the
fire; the next day I put it on again, and sometimes I kiss it.
Pages:
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312