"
"'Loathe' is no word to use for my boy," the old man caught her up
again. "I don't want you to marry him, no! But, whatever happens, I
can't have you or any one else doing him black injustice."
"Then, 'whatever happens,' I'll admit to you that never in the bottom
of my heart did I believe those things. I didn't believe them to-day,
but I--you were so horrible--I had to be horrible, too. There! The
same motive that made you defend him against your own interest has
made me confess that to you now. But you needn't be afraid. I don't
think in any case I could have married him knowing how his--his family
would feel. Still I might, if he'd tried to persuade me; I can't be
sure. I might have been weak. As it is, though--after you've insulted
me in this cruel way, I believe nothing would induce me to say yes if
he asked me. And he never _has_ asked me."
"Never has asked you?" echoed Peter senior, dumbfounded.
Some one had begun to knock at the door, but he did not hear. Neither
did Winifred. Each was absorbed in the other. Insensibly their tones
in addressing each other were changed. Some other ingredient had
mysteriously mingled with their rage; or, poured upon its stormy
surface, had calmed the waves.
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