He thought the time had come for an emotional attack. "Jessie,"
he said, with a sudden change of voice, "I know all this is mean,
isvillanous. But do you think that I have done all this scheming,
all this subterfuge, for any other object--"
She did not seem to listen to his words. "I shall ride home," she
said abruptly.
"To her?"
She winced.
"Just think," said he, "what she could say to you after this."
"Anyhow, I shall leave you now."
"Yes? And go--"
"Go somewhere to earn my living, to be a free woman, to live
without conventionality--"
"My dear girl, do let us be cynical. You haven't money and you
haven't credit. No one would take you in. It's one of two things:
go back to your stepmother, or--trust to me."
"How CAN I?"
"Then you must go back to her." He paused momentarily, to let
this consideration have its proper weight. "Jessie, I did not
mean to say the things I did. Upon my honour, I lost my head when
I spoke so. If you will, forgive me. I am a man. I could not help
myself. Forgive me, and I promise you--"
"How can I trust you?"
"Try me. I can assure you--"
She regarded him distrustfully.
"At any rate, ride on with me now. Surely we have been in the
shadow of this horrible bridge long enough."
"Oh! let me think," she said, half turning from him and pressing
her hand to her brow.
"THINK! Look here, Jessie. It is ten o'clock. Shall we call a
truce until one?"
She hesitated, demanded a definition of the truce, and at last
agreed.
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