the doctors will take, while we look on without a murmur. You remember our plan?'' I nod. ''But—'' ''What?''
''I begin to fear that, after all, I haven''t the heart for it..." ''You''ve a heart, instead, for little fingersmiths? Oh, Maud.'' Now his voice is rich with scorn. ''Have you forgotten what she has come to you for? Do you think she has forgotten? Do you suppose yourself anything to her, but that? You have been too long among your uncle''s books. Girls love easily, there. That is the point of them. If they loved so in life, the books would not have to be written.''
He looks me over. ''She would laugh in your face, if she knew.'' His tone grows sly. ''She would laugh in mine, were I to tell her ..." ''You shall not tell her!'' I say, lifting my head and stiffening. The thought is awful to me. ''Tell her once, and I keep at Briar for good. My uncle shall know how you''ve used me—I shan''t care how he treats me for it.''
''I shall not tell her,'' he answers slowly, ''if you will only do as you must, with no further delay. I shall not tell her, if you will let her think you love me and have agreed to be my wife; and so make good our escape, as you promised.''
I turn my face from his. Again there is a silence. Then I murmur—what else should I murmur?—''I will.'' He nods, and sighs. He still holds me tightly, and after another moment he puts his mouth against my ear.●●