I daresay she's right, and that he may have laughed in his sleeve at my romantic rhapsodies.
All the same, I never can convince myself that he is a mere fortune-hunter.

Perhaps the very fact that I didn't make the smallest effort to wrest him from Mademoiselle Croesus when he tried to make me jealous seemed proof to him that he was no more to me than a caprice.
So, when we made each other an atrocious scene and I told him to go off to her, he simply took me at my word.
The scene began with my telling him about my sort of engagement to Aubrey Blaine--whom as you know, I was really nearer to marrying than I have been to marrying anybody.

And yet, as I tried to explain to Will, I didn't WANT to marry Aubrey.

Only the mischief with me is always that I can't hold back with one hand and give with the other...

Will wasn't able to enter into my feelings about that affair in the very least or to understand how, when it came to the point, I realised that I COULDN'T sink to domesticity on seven hundred a year.