I tried to refuse, but mother
was there. She wouldn't hear of it. You know"--appealingly--"she is so
experienced. She knows how to insist without seeming to, so that, unless
one makes a scene, one has to yield. I thought each dance that he meant
to propose, but I just managed to steer clear. I felt absolutely
delirious the whole time. Most people thought I was enjoying it. Old
Lady Phillips told me I was looking quite handsome." She laughed a
little. "Well, after all, there seemed to be no escape, and I got
desperate. It was like a dreadful nightmare. I went to the opera one
night, and he came and sat close behind me and talked in whispers. When
he wasn't talking I knew that he was watching me--gloating over me. It
was horrible--horrible! Last night I wouldn't go out with the others. I
simply couldn't face it. And--do you know--he came to me!" She began to
breathe quickly, unevenly. The hands that lay in Rivington's quiet grasp
moved with nervous restlessness. "There was no one in the house besides
the servants," she said. "What could I do? He was admitted before I
knew. Of course, I ought to have refused to see him, but he was very
insistent, and I thought it a mistake to seem afraid. So I went to
him--I went to him."
The words came with a rush. She began to tremble all over. She was
almost sobbing.
Rivington's fingers closed very slowly, barely perceptibly, till his
grip was warm and close.
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