Nothing, so she told herself with
a certain vehemence, would induce her to marry him, for he had only L200
a year beside his pay, and that, even in India, she believed would mean
poverty. Also she had been told that no woman remained really pretty in
India for very long. But she was fond of Tremaine--he was "her sort," and
far, far more her ideal of what a man should be than was the rich man she
had deliberately made up her mind to marry; but bitter experience had
convinced Enid Crofton that money--plenty of money--was as necessary to
her as the air she breathed.
* * * * *
Suddenly there broke on her ear the peal of an old-fashioned bell,
followed by a short, sharp knock on the toy knocker of her front door.
Enid started up, her face full of eagerness and pleasure; something
seemed to tell her that it was--it must be--Radmore!
While the maid was going to the door, her mind worked quickly. Surely it
was very late for a call? He must have been wishing to see her as soon as
he possibly could, or he would never have managed to get away from Old
Place, and its many tiresome inmates. There came a mischievous smile over
her face.
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