"A last word, hey?"
"Yes," she answered, lifting her eyes to his face, but not advancing.
"I--I have been thinking it all over while waiting here alone, and--and
I find I am not quite ready. I sent for you to ask release from my
promise, or, at least, that you will not insist upon our--our marriage
to-night."
The man's dark face actually grew white, his surprise at this request
leaving him gasping for breath, as he stared at her.
"Why, good God, girl, do you realize what you are saying?" he exclaimed,
all self-control gone. "Why, we are ready now; Bradshaw just arrived and
every arrangement has been made for our journey. It cannot be
postponed."
"Oh, yes, indeed, it can," and she rose, facing him. "Surely you would
not force me against my will, Captain Le Gaire? I do not desire to
rebel, to absolutely refuse, but I hope you will listen to me, and then
act the part of a gentleman. I presume you desire me for your wife, not
your slave."
I thought he had lost his voice he was so long in answering; then the
tones were hoarse, indistinct.
"Listen! Yes! I want you to explain; only don't expect too much from
me."
She looked directly at him, her cheeks flushing to the insolence of his
accent.
"I am hardly likely to err in that way any more," rather coldly, "but I
do owe you an explanation.
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