I nod.
''It shall be ours,'' he says, ''if we marry''
I say nothing.
''Let me be honest,'' he goes on. ''I came to Briar, meaning to get
you in the ordinary way—I mean, seduce you from your uncle''s house, secure your fortune, perhaps dispose of you after. I saw in ten minutes what your life has made of you, and knew I should never achieve it. More, I understood that to seduce you would be to insult you—to make you only a different kind of captive. I don''t wish to do that. I wish rather to free you.''▃本▃作▃品▃由▃思▃兔▃在▃線▃閱▃讀▃網▃友▃整▃理▃上▃傳▃
''You are very gallant,'' I say. ''Suppose I don''t care to be freed?''
He answers simply: ''I think you long for it.''
Then I turn my face—afraid that the beating of blood, across my cheek, will betray me to him. My voice I make steady. I say, ''You forget, my longings count for nothing here. As well might my uncle''s books long to leap from their presses. He has made me like them—''
''Yes, yes,'' he says, in impatience. ''You have said as much to me already. I think perhaps you say it often. But, what can such a phrase mean? You are seventeen. I am twenty-eight, and believed for many years I should be rich now, and idle. Instead I am what you see me: a scoundrel, not too poor in pocket, but nor too easy in it that I shan''t be scram