"
"No. She likes him. But, of course, the money helped. But she wouldn't
marry you if you were a millionaire yourself. She loathes you. Always
has."
"I am going mad, I think. I haven't slept for months. Look at my hand,
how it shakes; anyone would think I was a drunkard! Look here, Tony,
couldn't you ask her to speak civilly to me, at least?"
She was almost frightened as she looked at his piteous face. He had
indeed changed appallingly in the last six or eight months, and there
was a tremulous movement about his well-cut mouth that was alarming.
"Yes, Gerald, I'll ask her. I--I am awfully sorry for you."
"Thanks. As far as that's concerned, everybody in the world ought to be
sorry for everybody else. We all have our little private hell. When is
the--is the wedding-day fixed?"
"Oh, no," she returned hastily, "dear me, no. She is in no hurry to
marry, and he is, of course, dough in her hands. You, at least, needn't
worry about that. Will you dine here?"
"Sorry----"
"She is to be here, and Joyselle. Theo is out of town."
Carron rose and hesitated. "Do you think she'd mind?" he asked
piteously. A sharp pang touched her worldly heart. If, years ago, she
had let him go? If she had not made him give up diplomacy because she
wanted him in England? He would, doubtless, have divorced his impossible
wife, and married, and this would not have come to him.
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