"What do you mean, Rita?"
She laughed cynically, shrugged her shoulders. First, Craig's
impudent assumption that she loved him, and his rude violation of
her lips; now, this frank insolence of insult, the more savage
that it was unconscious--and from the oldest and closest of her
men friends. If one did not die under such outrages, but continued
to live and let live, one could save the situation only by
laughing. So, Margaret laughed--and Arkwright shivered.
"For God's sake, Rita!" he cried. "I'd not have believed that lips
so young and fresh as yours could utter such a cynical sound."
She looked at him with disdainful, derisive eyes. "It's fortunate
for me that I have a sense of humor," said she. "And for you," she
added.
"But I am in earnest, I mean it--every word I said."
"That's just it," replied she. "You meant it--every word."
"You will marry me?"
"I will not."
"Why?"
"For several reasons. For instance, I happen to be engaged to
another man."
"That is--nothing." He snapped his fingers.
She elevated her brows. "Nothing?"
"He'd not keep his promise to you if--In fact, he was debating
with me whether or not he'd back down.
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