hand, but she took hers away.

'You are very pressing, Cecil, but I think not. You know perfectly
well--I'm sure I make no secret of it--that I'm ten years older than
you. Old enough to be your mother! Am I the sort of person who would
take advantage of the fancy of a gilded youth? And, now I come to think
of it, your proposal's quite insulting. It's treating me like an
adventuress! It's implying that you think I _would_ marry you!
Apologise, and withdraw it at once, or I'll never speak to you again.'

'This is nonsense. To begin with,' said Cecil, 'I may be a little
gilded--not so very--but I'm far from being a youth. I'm thirty-four.'

'Yes, I know! That's just the absurd part,' she answered inconsequently.
'It's not as if you were a mere boy and didn't know better! And you know
how I _hate_ this sort of thing.'

'I know you do, and very likely I wouldn't have worried about marrying
at all if you had been nicer to me--in other ways. You see, you brought
it on yourself!'

'What _do_ you mean? I _am_ nice. Don't you come here whenever you
like--or nearly? Didn't I dine with you once--a year or two ago? I
forget, but I think I did.'

'You never did,' he answered sharply.

'Then it must have been with somebody else. Of course I didn't. I
shouldn't dream of such a thing.'