The knitting of her brows became deeper; Marsh felt an uneasy movement in her frame.
"Speak plainly," he said.

"It's far better." "It's very hot, Clifford.

Sit on a chair; we can talk better." "I understand." He moved a little away from her, and looked round the room with a smile of disillusion.
"You needn't insult me," said Madeline, but not with the former petulance; "Often enough you have done that, and yet I don't think I have given you cause." Still crouching upon the stool, he clasped his hands over his knee, jerked his head back--a frequent movement, to settle his hair--and smiled with increase of bitterness.
"I meant no insult," he said, "either now or at other times, though you are always ready to interpret me in that way.

I merely hint at the truth, which would sound disagreeable in plain terms." "You mean, of course, that I think of nothing--have never thought of anything--but your material prospects ?" "Why didn't you marry me a year ago, Mad ?" "Because I should have been mad indeed to have done so.

You admit it would have caused your step-father at once to stop his allowance.