"
"But look here!" he stammered, his face red, his thick lips twisted in
an ugly fashion, "do you know what you're doing--saying?"
"Yes," she said, more sternly than before. "I think it is you who do
not know what you are saying. You cannot mean to insult me. I beg your
pardon, Joseph. I do not mean to be angry, to hurt your feelings. I
think you mean to pay me a great honour; and I--I thank you; but I
cannot accept it. And please take this as my final answer, and never,
never, speak to me again in this manner."
"Do you mean to say--" he began angrily.
"Not another word, please," said Ida, and she hurried forward so that
they came within hearing of Isabel.
Nothing more was said until they reached Laburnum Villa. Mrs. Heron was
waiting up for them, and was expressing a hope that they had enjoyed
themselves--she had a woollen shawl round her shoulders and spoke in an
injured voice and with the expression of a long-suffering martyr--when
she caught sight of Joseph's angry and sullen face as he flung himself
into a chair and thrust his hands in his pockets, and she stopped short
and looked from him to Ida, and sniffed suspiciously and aggressively.
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