interrupted her.

It wasn't as if she were younger or likely to start somewhere
else. She would live out her life in Fallon, that she knew. There
was little chance of her meeting new men, and those established
enough to make marriage with them desirable were already married.
Candidly, she admitted that if she turned Martin Wade down now,
she might never have another such opportunity. If only she could
feel that he cared for her--loved her. But wasn't the fact that
he was asking her to be his wife proof of that? It was very
strange. She had never suspected that Martin had ever felt drawn
to her. With a sigh she pressed her large, capable hands to her
heart. Its deep piercing ache brought tears to her eyes. She
felt, bitterly, that she was being cheated of too much that was
sweet and precious--it was all wrong--she would be making a
mistake. For a moment, she was overwhelmed. Then the practical
common sense that had been instilled into her from her earliest
consciousness, even as it had been instilled into Martin,
reasserted itself. After all, perhaps he was right--the busy
people were the happy people. Many couples who began marriage
madly in love ended in the divorce courts. Martin was kind and it
would be wonderful to have the home he had described. She
imagined herself mistress of it, thrilled with the warm
hospitality she would radiate, entertained already at missionary
meetings and at club. At least, she would be less lonely. It
would be a fuller life than now. What was she getting, really
getting, alone, out of this world? She and Martin would be good
partners. Poor boy! What a long, hard, cheerless existence he had
led. Tenderness welled in her heart and stilled its pain. Perhaps
his emotions were far deeper than he could express in words. His