And Marian replied: "I am devoted to Dorothy, of course, but I have never
admired her fashion of making advances to every man she meets. Yes, she
does."
"Nay, 'twas only her money that lured me, to do her justice. It appeared so
very sensible to marry an heiress.... But how can any man be sensible so
long as he is haunted by the memory of your eyes? For see how bright they
are,--see, here in the water. Two stars have fallen into the fountain,
Marian."
"You are handsomer so. Your nose is too short, but here in the fountain you
are quite handsome--"
"Marian,--"
"I wonder how many other women's fingers you have kissed--like that. Ah,
don't tell me, Humphrey! Humphrey, promise me that you will always lie to
me when I ask you about those other women. Lie to me, my dear, and I will
know that you are lying and love you all the better for it.... You should
not have told me about Dorothy. How often did you kiss all of Dorothy's
finger-tips one by one, in just that foolish, dear way?"
"But who was this Dorothy you speak of, Marian? I have forgotten. Oh,
yes--we quarrelled--over some woman,--and I went away. I left you for a
mere heiress, Marian. You! And five days, ago while I lay abed, wounded,
they told me that you, were to marry Ormskirk. I thought I would go mad....
Eh, I remember now. But what do these things matter? Is it not of far
greater importance that the sunlight turns your hair to pure topaz?"
"Ah, my hair, my eyes! Is it these you care for? You would not love me,
then, if I were old and ugly?"
"Eh,--I love you."
"Animal!"
There was a longer silence now. "Tweet!" said a bird, pertly.