Duplicate Death Read Free Page A

worry!"
    "That's fine. Dissuade him from putting his arm round you, and calling you his little protegee."
    Her colour was still heightened; she kept her eyes on her plate. "It's only his way. He's old enough to be my father!" "Yes, that's what makes it all the more objectionable," said Timothy.
    She bit her lip, but said in a sulky voice: "Anyway, it's got nothing to do with you."
    "It has everything to do with me. You have plighted your troth to me, my girl."
    "It's no use. I can't marry you."
    "Then I shall sue you for breach of promise. Why, by the way, have you had this sudden change of heart?"
    "It isn't possible. I must have been crazy! I can't think why you want to marry me!"
    "Good lord, didn't I tell you? I love you!"
    She muttered: "Yes, you told me. That's what I - what I don't understand! Why should you?"
    "Oh, I shouldn't worry over that, if I were you!" said Timothy kindly. "Of course, if you insist, I'll enumerate the various things which attract me to you, but they really haven't got much to do with it. To be thoroughly vulgar, we just clicked. Or didn't we?"
    Her face quivered; she gave a rather convulsive nod. "Yes, but -"
    "There you are, then. You know, for an intelligent girl, you say some remarkably stupid things. You'd be properly stymied if I asked you what you saw in me to fall in love with, wouldn't you?"
    A flicker of humour shone in her eyes. "No, I shouldn't," she replied. "Anyone can see what I fell for at a glance! Exactly what about fifty other girls have fallen for!"
    "You are exaggerating," said Mr. Harte, preserving his sang-froid. "Not much, of course, but slightly. Forty three is the correct number, and that includes my niece. I'm afraid she may not take very kindly to our marriage, by the way. She says she is going to marry me herself, but of course that's impossible. If we had only lived in medieval times I could have got a dispensation, I expect. As it is —'
    "You are a fool!" interrupted Miss Birtley, laughing in spite of herself. "Nor do I think that your niece is the only member of your family who wouldn't take kindly to our marriage."
    "You never know. It's within the bounds of possibility that your family may not take kindly to me."
    "I have no family," she said harshly.
    "What, none at all?"
    "I have an uncle, and his wife. I don't have anything to do with them."
    "What a bit of luck for me!" said Mr. Harte. "I was rather funking being shown to a clutter of aunts and cousins. My half-brother says it's hell. He had to go through the mill. Said his hands and feet seemed too large suddenly, and whenever he thought out a classy line to utter it turned out to be the one thing he oughtn't to have said."
    "Like me with your mother."
    "Not in the least like that. I distinctly recall that you said how-do-you-do to Mamma, and I seem to remember that you made one unprompted and, I am bound to say, innocuous remark about the evils of progress as exemplified by pneumatic-drills. The rest of your conversation was monosyllabic."
    There was an awful pause. "Well, there you are!" said Miss Birtley defiantly. "I have no conversation!"
    "I have no wish to appear boastful," returned young Mr. Harte, "but from my earliest days it has been said of me by all who know me best that I talk enough for two, or even more."
    "Your mother," said Miss Birtley, giving him a straight look, "wrote me down as an adventuress, and that is exactly what I am! So now you know! My aim is to marry a man of good social standing, independent means, and a background. That's why I encouraged you to propose to me."
    "Is it really?" said Mr. Harte. "Then why on earth did you waste your time on me, instead of gunning for our newest and most socialistic peer?"
    Miss Birtley's air of slightly belligerent gravity was momentarily impaired. "Are you talking about Lance Guisborough? Well, if he ever cleaned his nails, or got his hair cut -"
    "My good girl," said Mr. Harte severely, "if you are going to let little things like that