I know how she felt years ago, when she was
a perfect spook. I don't believe she's changed. With all her impulsive
ways she's as deep as perdition, and she'd flirt with him to spite
me, if nothing more. Papa said last night that I had better accept
Arnault. I won't accept him till I must, and he'll rue his success if
he wins it." Then the mirror reflected a lovely creature dissolved in
tears.
Again she soliloquized: "I can't accept a horse from Graydon; Arnault
would never submit to it. The receiving of such a present would
compromise me at once. It does not matter so much what I say or look
in private; this proves nothing to the world, and I see more and more
clearly that Arnault will not permit his pride to be humiliated. He
will endure what he calls a fair, open suit philosophically, but the
expression of his eyes makes me shiver sometimes. Was ever a girl
placed in such a mean and horrible position! I won't endure this
shilly-shally much longer. If they can't prove something more definite
against the Muirs, I'll accept Graydon. Papa is just horrid! Why can't
he make more in Wall Street? There must be ways, and any way is as
respectable as the one I may be compelled to take. Well, if I do have
to accept Arnault I'll make Graydon think that I had to do so for
papa's sake, and we'll become good friends again before long.
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