"The right, you say? What right?"
"To tell you that I love you."
She drew a quick, quivering breath, the rich color surging into her
cheeks, her gloved hands clasped across her heaving bosom as though to
still the fierce throbbing of her heart. An instant she stood as if
palsied, trembling, from head to foot, although he could perceive
nothing. Her lips smiled.
"Oh, indeed," she said archly, "and how very prettily you said it! The
only son of Colonel Winston, the wealthy banker of Denver, honors Miss
Norvell, actress, and she, of course, feels highly grateful!"
"Beth, stop!" His voice was indignantly earnest. "It is not that; you
must know it is not that!"
"I only know it is supremely ridiculous," she returned, more coldly;
"yet if I did not believe you spoke with some degree of honesty I
should deem your words a deliberate insult, and treat them accordingly.
As it is, I prefer regarding your speech merely as an evidence of
temporary insanity. Ned Winston making love to Beth Norvell! Why, you
do not even know my true name, the story of my life, or that I am in
any way worthy of your mere friendship.
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