"Let
me tell you one thing," he added steadily. "Such a book
as you propose writing would be classed as the lowest
sensationalism. People would compare it with the literature
of the police court."
Elfrida sprang to her feet, with her head thrown back
and-her beautiful eyes alight. "_Touche!_" Cardiff thought
exultingly.
"You may go too far!" she exclaimed passionately. "There
are some things that may not be said!"
Cardiff went over to her quickly and took her hand.
"Forgive me," he said. "Forgive me--I am very much in
earnest."
She turned away from him. "You had no right to say it.
You know my work, and you know that the ideal of it is
everything in the world to me--my religion. How dared you
suggest a comparison between, it and--_cette ordure la!_"
Her voice broke, and Cardiff fancied she was on the brink
of tears. "Elfrida," he cried miserably, "let us have an
end of this! I have no right to intrude my opinions--if
you like, my prejudices--between you and what you are
doing. But I have come to beg you to give me the right."
He came a step closer and laid his free hand lightly on
her shoulder. "Elfrida," he said unhesitatingly, "I want
you to be my wife."
"And Janet's stepmother!" thought the girl swiftly.
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