He would have given much to have been able to utter, "I do." Her face was like an eager flower straining for light; the very beauty of it swelled his jealous passion, and he flattered himself with his incapacity to speak an abject lie to propitiate her.
"She says she is married.

We're bound to accept what she says." That was his answer.
"Is she married ?" thundered the farmer.

"Has she been and disgraced her mother in her grave?
What am I to think?
She's my flesh and blood.

Is she--" "Oh, hush, father!" Rhoda laid her hand on his arm.

"What doubt can there be of Dahlia?
You have forgotten that she is always truthful.