"Why, she simply won't marry me, don't you see?"
Owen's legs, not to mention his voice, had wavered while he spoke, and
she felt his possession of her hand loosen so that she was free again.
Her stare of perception broke into a lively laugh. "Oh, you're all
right, for you _will_ get them. You will; you're quite safe; don't
worry!" She fell back into the house with her hand on the door.
"Good-bye, good-bye." She repeated it several times, laughing bravely,
quite waving him away and, as he didn't move and save that he was on the
other side of it, closing the door in his face quite as he had closed
that of the drawing-room in hers. Never had a face, never at least had
such a handsome one, been so presented to that offense. She even held
the door a minute, lest he should try to come in again. At last, as she
heard nothing, she made a dash for the stairs and ran up.