"Miss Dane refused me."
"Bah!" said Miriam, with infinite scorn; "much you know of women, to
take that for a test! But it isn't to talk of love I came here. I am
half distracted. The child has met with foul play, I am certain, since
you are here."
"Will you have the goodness to explain, my good woman," said Mr.
Ingelow, beseechingly. "Consider, I am all in the dark."
"And I can not enlighten you without telling you the whole story, and if
you are not the hero of it, I have no right, and no wish, to do that.
One question I will ask you," fixing her powerful eyes on his face: "Do
you still love Mollie Dane?"
Mr. Ingelow smiled serene as the sunset sky outside.
"A point-blank question. Forgive me if I decline answering it."
Miriam's eyes flashed fire.
"You never cared for her!" she said, in fierce impatience. "You are a
poltroon and a carpet-knight, like the rest--ready with plenty of fine
words, and nothing else! You asked her to marry you, and you don't care
whether she is living or dead!"
"Why should I?" said Mr. Ingelow, coolly. "She refused to marry me.
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