"Thank you," she told him seriously; "it will
make me very happy to marry you, Gordon."

With a fleeting, backward glance he moved closer
to her, his arm fell about her waist, he pressed a
hasty, ill-directed kiss upon her chin. "Will you
marry me now?" he asked eagerly. "You see, others
wouldn't understand, you remember what your
father said about the Makimmon breed? They
would repeat that I had nothing, or even that I was
marrying you for old Pompey's money. You know
better than that, you know he wouldn't give us a
penny."

"It wouldn't matter now what any one said," she
returned serenely.

"But it would be so much easier -- we could slip
off quietly somewhere, and come back married, all
the fuss avoided, all the say so's and say no's shut
up right at the beginning."

"When do you want to be -- be married?"

"Right away!, now!, today!"

"Oh... oh, Gordon, but we couldn't! I
haven't even a white dress here. I might go into
Greenstream, be ready tomorrow--"

"No, no, no, I'm afraid it must be now or never;
something would take you from me. I knew it, I
was afraid of it, from the first... I'll shoot myself."

She started toward him in an excess of tender pity.

[[143]]

p142 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p143w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p144

v?