You're overdone." He poured it out and mechanically Nan lifted it to her lips, then set it down on the table, untasted, with a hand that shook.
"I don't want it," she said.

Then, unevenly: "Uncle, I can't--I can't ever marry--" "Drink this," insisted St.John.

He held out the champagne once more, quietly ignoring her stumbling utterance.
Nan pushed the glass aside.

The whole of her misery was on the tip of her tongue.
"Listen Uncle David--you must listen!" she began rather wildly.

"I don't care for Ro--" "No, my dear.