I've
told you before, and I tell you again, I shall go where I please."
"Let me see," laughed Margaret; "it was Napoleon--wasn't it?--who
used to talk that way?"
"And you think I'm imitating him, eh?"
"You do suggest it very often."
"I despise him. A wicked, little, dago charlatan who was put out
of business as soon as he was really opposed. No!--no Waterloo for
me! ... How's your mother? She got sick while I was talking to her
and had to leave the room."
"Yes, I know," said Margaret.
"You ought to make her take more exercise. Don't let her set foot
in a carriage. We are animals, and nature has provided that
animals shall walk to keep in health. Walking and things like that
are the only sane modes of getting about. Everything aristocratic
is silly. As soon as we begin to rear and strut we stumble into
our graves--But it's no use to talk to you about that. I came on
another matter."
Margaret's lips tightened; she hastily veiled her eyes.
"I've taken a great fancy to you," Craig went on. "That's why I've
wasted so much time on you. What you need is a husband--a good
husband. Am I not right?"
Margaret, pale, said faintly: "Go on.
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