Africa -- Fiction; Businessmen -- Fiction; Crime -- England -- Fiction; Criminals -- England -- Fiction
Kate was sitting in a wicker chair by the window, arranging flowers in a
vase. The morning sunlight streaming in upon her gave a colour to her
pale face and glittered in her heavy coils of chestnut hair. She wore a
light pink morning dress which added to the ethereal effect of her lithe
beautiful figure. As Ezra entered she looked round and started at sight
of his face. Instinctively she knew on what errand he had come.
"You will be late at Fenchurch Street," she said, with a constrained
smile. "It is nearly eleven now."
"I am not going to the office to-day," he answered gravely. "I am come
in here, Kate, to know my fate. You know very well, and must have known
for some time back, that I love you. If you'll marry me you'll make me
a happy man, and I'll make you a happy woman. I'm not very eloquent and
that sort of thing, but what I say I mean. What have you to say in
answer?" He leaned his broad hands on the back of a chair as he spoke,
and drummed nervously with his fingers.
Kate had drooped her head over the flowers, but she looked up at him now
with frank, pitying eyes.
"Put this idea out of your head, Ezra," she said, in a low but firm
voice. "Believe me, I shall always be grateful to you for the kindness
which you have shown me of late. I will be a sister to you, if you will
let me, but I can never be more."
"And why not?" asked Ezra, still leaning over the chair, with an angry
light beginning to sparkle in his dark eyes. "Why can you never be my
wife?"
"It is so, Ezra. You must not think of it. I am so sorry to grieve
you."
"You can't love me, then," cried the young merchant hoarsely.
"Other women before now would have given their eyes to have had me.
Do you know that?"
"For goodness' sake, then go back to the others," said Kate, half amused
and half angry.
That suspicion of a smile upon her face was the one thing needed to set
Ezra's temper in a blaze. "You won't have me," he cried savagely.
"I haven't got the airs and graces of that fellow, I suppose.
You haven't got him out of your head, though he is off with another
girl."
"How dare you speak to me so?" Kate cried, springing to her feet in
honest anger.
"It's the truth, and you know it," returned Ezra, with a sneer.
"Aren't you too proud to be hanging on to a man who doesn't want you--
a man that is a smooth-tongued sneak, with the heart of a rabbit?"
"If he were here you would not dare to say so!" Kate retorted hotly.
"Wouldn't I?" he snarled fiercely.
"No, you wouldn't. I don't believe that he has ever been untrue to me.
I believe that you and your father have planned to make me believe it
and to keep us apart."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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