Her honest eyes
were bent upon him with the same expression she had often worn when
Arthur had come to her with some confession of folly--the expression
which belongs to the maternal side of women, and is at once mocking and
sweet. It said--"Of course you are a great fool!--most men are. But
that's the _raison d'etre_ of women! Suppose we go into the business!"
"You're very kind--" he groaned--"awfully kind. I'm ashamed you should
have seen--such a thing. Nobody can help me--thank you very much. I am
engaged to that lady--I've promised to marry her. Oh, she's got any
amount of evidence. I've been an ass--and worse. But I can't get out of
it. I don't mean to try to get out of it. I promised of my own free
will. Only I've found out now I can never live with her. Her temper is
fiendish. It degrades her--and me. But you saw! She has made my life a
burden to me lately, because I wouldn't name a day for us to be married.
I wanted to see my father quietly first--without my mother knowing--and
I have been thinking how to manage it--and funking it of course--I
always do funk things.
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