"I do not permit any one to lie to me about the man I have
engaged to marry."
"What!" shouted Grant. "It was TRUE?"
"Go out into the garden and try to calm yourself, Grant," said the
girl haughtily. "And if you can't, why--take yourself off home.
And don't come back until you are ready to apologize."
"Rita, why didn't you give me a hint? I'd have married you myself.
I'm willing to do it....Rita, will you marry me?"
Margaret leaned back upon the sofa and laughed until his blood
began to run alternately hot and cold.
"I beg your pardon," he stammered. "I did not realize how it
sounded. Only--you know how things are with our sort of people.
And, as men go, I can't help knowing I'm what's called a catch,
and that you're looking for a suitable husband....As it's
apparently a question of him or me, and as you've admitted you got
him by practically proposing--... Damn it all, Rita, I want you,
and I'm not going to let such a man as he is have you. I never
dreamed you'd bother with him seriously or I'd not have been so
slow."
Margaret was leaning back, looking up at him. "I've sunk even
lower than I thought," she said, bringing to an end the painful
silence which followed this speech.
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