He had taken
Christine's hand in his, only to have it gently withdrawn by the girl.
"No, David," said Mary Braddock firmly, "it is out of the question.
You are no longer a soldier of fortune. You are a Jenison of Jenison
Hall. We can't build a bridge for that."
"But I won't stand it!" he exclaimed passionately. "I _will_ come
back."
"As a clown?" said she, smiling.
"I'll buy a part interest in the show," he said stubbornly.
"You are not of age," she reminded him. "The courts will name a
guardian for you, I fancy. No, my boy, we must face the thing
squarely. We shall be glad to see you if you happen to be where we may
meet naturally."
"But I love Christine," he protested. "You told me last night that you
would put no obstacle in our way to--"
"I told you last night that I would put no obstacle in your way,
David, if you came to me in five years and still could say that you
love her and would make her your wife."
"But we thought then that I might always be near her--with the show,
perhaps," he argued.
"Quite true. But all that is blotted out, don't you see."
Christine was weeping silently.
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