He looked quietly down into her face without moving a muscle in response
to her change of humor.
"Very clever," he said.
"What?" she asked, still smiling.
"The attitude, the voice, every thing. You have known all along that I
am in earnest, you have known it for the last six months. You have seen
me often enough when I was--well, not in earnest, to know the
difference."
Etta rose quickly. It was some lightning-like woman's instinct that made
her do so. Standing, she was taller than M. de Chauxville.
"Do not let us be tragic," she said coldly. "You have asked me to marry
you; why, I don't know. The reason will probably transpire later. I
appreciate the honor, but I beg to decline it. Et voila tout. All is
said."
He spread out apologetic hands.
"All is not said," he corrected, with a dangerous suavity. "I
acknowledge the claim enjoyed by your sex to the last word. In this
matter, however, I am inclined to deny it to the individual."
Etta Sydney Bamborough smiled. She leaned against the mantelpiece, with
her chin resting on her curved fingers. The attitude was eminently
calculated to show to full advantage a faultless figure. She evidently
had no desire to cheapen that which she would deny. She shrugged her
shoulders and waited.
De Chauxville was vain, but he was clever enough to conceal his vanity.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63