``That is not sincere!'' cried he. ``You may think it is, but it
isn't. Look at me, Jane.''
``I haven't been doing anything else since we met,'' laughed she.
``That's better,'' said he. ``Let's not be solemn. Solemnity is
pose, and when people are posing they get nowhere. You say I can
make of you what I please. Do you mean that you are willing to
become a woman of my class--to be that all your life--to bring up
your children in that way--to give up your fashionable
friends--and maid--and carriages--and Paris clothes--to be a
woman who would not make my associates and their families
uncomfortable and shy?''
She was silent. She tried to speak, but lifting her eyes before
she began her glance encountered his and her words died upon her
lips.
``You know you did not mean that,'' pursued he. ``Now, I'll tell
you what you did mean. You meant that after you and I were
married--or engaged--perhaps you did not intend to go quite so
far as marriage just yet.''
The color crept into her averted face.
``Look at me!'' he commanded laughingly.
With an effort she forced her eyes to meet his.
``Now--smile, Jane!''
His smile was contagious. The curve of her lips changed; her
eyes gleamed.
``Am I not reading your thoughts?'' said he.
``You are very clever, Victor,'' admitted she.
``Good. We are getting on. You believed that, once we were
engaged, I would gradually begin to yield, to come round to your
way of thinking.
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