She winced in spite of herself.
"No."
He raised his brows.
"You have refused him, then?"
Her face was burning.
"He hasn't proposed to me--yet," she said. "Perhaps he never will."
"I see." His manner was relentless, his hold compelling. "I will defend
Burleigh Wentworth," he said, "upon one condition."
"What is that?" she whispered.
"That you marry me," said Percival Field with his steady eyes upon her
face.
She was trembling from head to foot.
"You--you--have never seen me before to-day," she said.
"Yes, I have seen you," he said, "several times. I have known your face
and figure by heart for a very long while. I haven't had the time to seek
you out. It seems to have been decreed that you should do that part."
Was there cynicism in his voice? It seemed so. Yet his eyes never left
her. They held her by some electric attraction which she was powerless
to break.
She looked at him, white to the lips.
"Are you--in--earnest?" she asked at last.
Again for an instant she saw his faint smile.
"Don't you know the signs yet?" he said. "Surely you have had ample
opportunity to learn them!"
A tinge of colour crept beneath her pallor.
"No one ever proposed to me--like this before," she said.
His hand was still upon her arm. It closed with a slow, remorseless
pressure as he made quiet reply to her previous question.
"Yes.
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