“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” said Audrey.
MacWhirter said:
“I’m not your kind. I thought you’d marry that quiet fellow who’s cared for you so long.”
“Thomas? Dear True Thomas. He’s too true. He’s faithful to the image of a girl he loved years ago. But the person he really cares for is Mary Aldin, though he doesn’t know it yet himself.”
MacWhirter took a step towards her. He spoke sternly.
“Do you mean what you’re saying?”
“Yes…I want to be with you always, never to leave you. If you go I shall never find anybody like you, and I shall go lonely all my days.”
MacWhirter sighed. He took out his wallet and carefully examined its contents.
He murmured:
“A special licence comes expensive. I’ll need to go to the Bank first thing tomorrow.”
“I could lend you some money,” murmured Audrey.
“You’ll do nothing of the kind. If I marry a woman, I pay for the licence. You understand?”
“You needn’t,” said Audrey softly, “look so stern.”
He said gently as he came towards her:
“Last time I had my hands on you, you felt like a bird—struggling to escape. You’ll never escape now….”
She said:
“I shall never want to escape.”
* * *