"You are only a paltry fortune-hunter, John Derringham, for all your
fine talk," she said loudly, raising her voice, and allowing it to
regain its original broad accent, "and I have kept you on just to punish
you. But, if you thought I was ever going to marry you now that you are
no better than a cripple, and don't amount to thirty cents in the
opinion of the world--you or your Government either!--you made a great
mistake. I have something much more delightful on hand--so you can take
back your ring and your freedom--and go and find some meeker woman who
will put up with your airs."
And she picked up from a table beside her his diamond gage, which she
had taken from her hand before his entrance, and threw it over to
him--and then leaned back as if exhausted with anger among the cushions.
John Derringham had grown very pale as the insulting words fell from her
lips--and now he rose to his feet, and standing there looked at her with
pitying contempt.
"Then I will say good-by, Cecilia," he said. "The manner of your release
of me cancels the pain it might otherwise have caused me.
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