"But did I make you think?
or did you think it of your own accord ?" She plucked at her fan nervously.
"Any girl--I don't care who she is--would accept you if you asked her to marry you!" she said hotly.

"It would be perfectly idiotic to refuse such a rich man, even if he were Methusaleh himself.

There's nothing wrong or dishonest in taking the chance of having plenty of money, if it is offered." He looked at her, vaguely compassionating her loss of self-control.
"No, there is nothing wrong or dishonest in taking the chance of having plenty of money, if such a chance can be had without shame and dishonour," he said.

"But I, personally, should consider a woman hopelessly lost to every sense of self-respect, if at the age of twenty-one she consented to marry a man of seventy for the sake of his wealth.

And I should equally consider the man of seventy a disgrace to the name of manhood if he condoned the voluntary sale of such a woman by becoming her purchaser." She lifted her head with a haughty air.
"Then, if you thought these things, you had no right to propose to me!" she said passionately.
He was faintly amused.
"I did not propose to you, Lucy," he answered, "and I never intended to do so! I merely asked what your answer would be if I did." "It comes to the same thing!" she muttered.
"Pardon me, not quite! I told you I was putting you to a test.