She glanced at him in haughty amaze, tinged with some other feeling that he could not translate.
"You dare address me thus! Are you mad?"
"I think so!"
"I think so also," she said, coldly. "And now, sir, there is an end of these unwarranted questions, which you have as little title to ask as I have inclination to answer. Leave me or let me pass."
He stood in her path, half mad as he said:
"I will know one thing—are you any man's wife?"
Utter surprise passed over her face, and something of contemptuous annoyance.
"I reply to nothing asked in such a manner," she said briefly. "Let me pass, sir."
"No! Tell me this one thing for the love of pity!"
The anguish in his voice touched her; she paused a moment.
It can concern you in no way," she answered him distantly. "But since you ask it—know that I cherish freedom too well to be wedded."
"I thank God,—I may love you without sin."
