" "Well," replied her son; "and you spurn the proposal. He wasn't satisfied with an assured income from the paper-mills your grandfather left us. He'll be here two or three days. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. Don’t leave me. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. "Oh no—no! You say this to terrify me—to try me. " "Readily. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Why?" "I was just wondering.
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