It may be an excuse that sounds like the truth, or the
truth that sounds like an excuse. She contrived to leave it
confoundedly indistinct, and that is what I complain of."
"You haven't given me any clue yet as to what the conversation was,"
Dick said quietly as we paced down the silent street.
My head seemed reeling with pain and the blood that flowed to it.
The moonlight, and the black shadows it deepened, jumped together
before my eyes.
"The accursed upshot of it was that she won't have anything to do
with our marriage at present," I returned.
"Oh! And what reason did she assign?"
"After considerable hesitation she said her health; but, as I say,
she would not speak out, and such an excuse between us is
monstrous!"
"After considerable hesitation she said her health; but, as I say,
she would not speak out, and such an excuse between us is monstrous!
Ours is not a formal 'mariage de convenance;' it lies with
ourselves. She is obviously not seriously ill; if she hesitates on
her own account she must know she has nothing to fear from me; if
she hesitates on mine, then it is folly and nonsense. I don't care
about anything! I don't care what is the matter with her, I would
marry her if she were dying, rotting of leprosy to-morrow!"
"I say, old fellow, you must not excite yourself like this! You will
be seriously ill if you don't look out," Dick answered,
remonstratingly.
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