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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Why did you tell him that?" "It's the truth, Max almost the truth." "Almost the truth!" cried Linburne. "Do you want me to think you care something for this man after all?" "In the simple section of the country from which I come," observed Riatt, "we often care a good deal for the people we marry." Linburne turned on him. "Really, Mr. Riatt," he said, "you don't take an idea very quickly.
"And may I ask if you consider that she does intend to marry you that is if you should happen to become marriageable?" "That is a question between her and me," returned Linburne. Riatt laughed. "I see," he said. "The matrimonial plans of my future wife are no affair of mine?" And for an instant he felt his most proprietary rights were being invaded. "Miss Fenimer is not your future wife."
How irritating the weather always is, Christine thought. For though she was willing to use scandal as a weapon over Riatt, she was not sure that she wished to put it into Hickson's hands. She thought hard, and then said brightly: "Oh, perhaps he came back for his breakfast before I was up." Hickson shook his head: "They only lead one way," he said.
When the door had shut behind him, Christine glanced at her remaining visitor. "And now," she said, "I suppose you are wishing you had not." "What sort of a woman are you?" Riatt exclaimed. "Will you take any man that offers, me or Hickson, or Linburne or me again, just as luck will have it?" "I take the best that offers, Max and that's no lie." The implied compliment did not soften Riatt.
But I suppose we must let Miss Fenimer settle the question." Christine smiled like an angel. "Can't we have a nice time as we are?" she asked. This frivolous reply was properly ignored by both men, and Riatt went on: "Don't you think you ought to consider the fact that Miss Fenimer and I are engaged?" "Miss Fenimer assures me she does not intend to marry you."
Almar laughed with meaning. "I wonder why that should be," she said. "What do you mean?" Riatt asked, but at that moment they drew up before the Thirty-ninth Street entrance, and the doorman, opening the motor's door, shouted "Ten Forty-five" a cheerful lie he has been telling four times a week for many years. In the opera box, Riatt at once seated himself behind Christine.
You have just heard Miss Fenimer say that she did not love you and that she considered your engagement at an end." "I heard her say she had told you that." "You mean to imply that she said what was untrue?" "I could answer your question better," said Riatt, "if I understood a little more clearly what your connection with this whole situation is."
Is your conscience unmoved by the responsibility of some one else's unhappiness? Can you be made love to without a haunting suspicion that you brought it on yourself?" "Good heavens, no!" cried Riatt from the heart. "Then, run while there's time." As the ox fears the gad-fly and the elephant the mouse, so does the bravest of men fear the emotional entanglement of any making but his own.
Christine was glad to get out of the wind, but the damp chill of the deserted house was not much of an improvement. Ahead of her in the darkness, she could hear Riatt snapping electric switches which produced nothing. "Isn't the light connected?" he called. "I don't know." "Aren't there lamps in the house?" "I don't know." "Where could I find some candles?"
Riatt had caught sight of Laura Ussher across the house, and knew his duty demanded that he should go and say a word to his exuberant cousin who, he supposed, regarded herself as the artificer of his happiness.
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