"Of course, I'm only joking," continued Arkwright. "I know YOU
couldn't marry HIM."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't think he's sincere."

Her silence made him feel that she thought this as weak as he did.

"Because you don't love him."

"No, I certainly don't love him," said Margaret.

"Because you don't even like him."

"What a strange way of advocating your friend you have."

Arkwright flushed scarlet. "I thought you'd quite dismissed him as
a possibility," he stammered.

"With a woman every man's a possibility so long as no man's a
certainty."

"Margaret, you couldn't marry a man you didn't like?"

She seemed to reflect. "Not if I were in love with another at the
time," she said finally. "That's as far as my womanly delicacy--
what's left of it after my years in society--can influence me. And
it's stronger, I believe, than the delicacy of most women of our
sort."