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Well
now
,
all
I
ask
is
,
go
to
my
father
and
buy
me
at
once
!
Conclude
the
bargain
!
And
when
you
have
bought
me
--
do
n't
look
so
tragic
!
"
and
she
laughed
again
--
"
and
when
you
have
paid
the
clergyman
,
and
paid
the
bridesmaids
(
with
monogram
lockets
or
brooches
)
and
paid
the
guests
(
with
wedding-cake
and
champagne
)
and
cleared
up
all
scores
with
everybody
,
even
to
the
last
man
who
shuts
the
door
of
the
nuptial
brougham
--
will
you
take
me
away
--
far
away
from
this
place
--
this
house
,
where
my
mother
's
face
haunts
me
like
a
ghost
in
the
darkness
;
where
I
am
tortured
by
terrors
night
and
day
--
where
I
hear
such
strange
sounds
,
and
dream
of
such
ghastly
things
--
"
here
her
voice
suddenly
broke
,
and
she
hid
her
face
against
my
breast
--
"
Oh
yes
,
Geoffrey
,
take
me
away
as
quickly
as
possible
!
Let
us
never
live
in
hateful
London
,
but
at
Willowsmere
;
I
may
find
some
of
the
old
joys
there
--
and
some
of
the
happy
bygone
days
.
"
Touched
by
the
appealing
pathos
of
her
accents
,
I
pressed
her
to
my
heart
,
feeling
that
she
was
scarcely
accountable
for
the
strange
things
she
said
in
her
evidently
overwrought
and
excitable
condition
.
"
It
shall
be
as
you
wish
,
my
darling
,
"
I
said
--
"
The
sooner
I
have
you
all
to
myself
the
better
.
This
is
the
end
of
March
--
will
you
be
ready
to
marry
me
in
June
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
she
answered
,
still
hiding
her
face
.
"
And
now
Sibyl
,
"
I
went
on
--
"
remember
--
there
must
be
no
more
talk
of
money
and
bargaining
.
Tell
me
what
you
have
not
yet
told
me
--
that
you
love
me
--
and
would
love
me
even
if
I
were
poor
.
"
She
looked
up
,
straightly
and
unflinchingly
full
into
my
eyes
.
"
I
can
not
tell
you
that
,
"
--
she
said
--
"
I
have
told
you
I
do
not
believe
in
love
;
and
if
you
were
poor
I
certainly
should
not
marry
you
.
It
would
be
no
use
!
"
"
You
are
frank
,
Sibyl
!
"
"
It
is
best
to
be
frank
,
is
it
not
?
"
and
she
drew
a
flower
from
the
knot
at
her
bosom
,
and
began
fastening
it
in
my
coat
--
"
Geoffrey
what
is
the
good
of
pretence
?
You
would
hate
to
be
poor
,
and
so
should
I.
I
do
not
understand
the
verb
'
to
love
,
'
--
now
and
then
when
I
read
a
book
by
Mavis
Clare
,
I
believe
love
may
exist
,
but
when
I
close
the
book
my
belief
is
shut
up
with
it
.
So
do
not
ask
for
what
is
not
in
me
.
I
am
willing
--
even
glad
to
marry
you
;
that
is
all
you
must
expect
.
"
"
All
!
"
I
exclaimed
,
with
a
sudden
mingling
of
love
and
wrath
in
my
blood
,
as
I
closed
my
arms
about
her
and
kissed
her
passionately
--
"
All
!
--
you
impassive
ice-flower
,
it
is
not
all
!
--
you
shall
melt
to
my
touch
and
learn
what
love
is
--
do
not
think
you
can
escape
its
influence
,
you
dear
,
foolish
,
beautiful
child
!
Your
passions
are
asleep
--
they
must
wake
!
"
