"Mrs. Rangely may be nothing to you, but Dr. Wilson is still a good
deal to me, thank you."
He looked at her again with perplexity in his glance, but with his face
hardening.
"You surely cannot mean that you have ceased to care for me just for a
second of meaningless laughter?"
She swept him a scornful courtesy.
"You do these things better in your novels, Mr. Rangely, which shows
what an advantage it is to have time to think speeches over. I wouldn't
have my hero say a thing like that, if I were you. It would make him
seem like a conceited cad."
The insolence of her manner was such as no man could bear. Rangely
crimsoned to the temples. He paced across the room, while she coolly
seated herself in a great Venetian chair, and began to play with a
little jade image. He came back to her, and stood a moment as if he
could not find words.
"Why don't you go?" she asked, looking up at him as if he were a
servant sent upon an errand.
"Because," he broke out angrily, "when I go I shall not come back; and
I should like to understand this thing."
She shrugged her shoulders, and leaned back in her chair, looking him
over from head to foot.
Pages:
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283