"What Miss Bishop is to me," he said quietly, "is neither here nor
there--only to be classed with one of those impulsive conjectures
of yours--just the same as when you said that she was a milliner.
You don't quite know what you're speaking about, and that gives you
confidence. You're a woman. But you'll have to forgive me if I correct
you when you talk about this house as yours--it's not--it's mine.
You've scarcely what constitutes a tenancy of it."
"Haven't you to put down the sum of five thousand pounds before you
can say that?" she asked, her voice steadied, her impulses all under
the curb now. She must step lightly if she were to win after this.
"Do you think that would be a very difficult matter?" he questioned
in return.
"Well, can you do it?"
"Oh no," he smiled. "As a matter of fact, I never carry more than
four or five pounds in loose cash about with me. Don't be a fool,
Dolly. Do you want to irritate me into doing something that you know
would put your nose out of joint for the rest of your natural life?
You know well enough, that I could find the money to-morrow if I
wanted to. You've irritated me quite enough already."
"How?"
"By coming down here.
Pages:
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341