My aunt interposed once more, with a resolution which I had not expected from her.
“Captain Stanwick,” she said, “you are forgetting yourself.”
He paid no heed to her; he persisted in speaking to me. “It is my misfortune to love you,” he burst out. “My whole heart is set on you. I mean to be your husband, and no other man living shall stand in my way. After what you said to me yesterday, I have a right to consider that you have favored my addresses. This is not a mere flirtation. Don’t think it! I say it’s the passion of a life! Do you hear? It’s the passion of a man’s whole life! I am not to be trifled with. I have had a night of sleepless misery about you—I have suffered enough for you—and you’re not worth it. Don’t laugh! This is no laughing matter. Take care, Bertha! Take care!”
My
