"And now, though you might think I was too near her still, yet I know it isn’t so. And I ask you to remember what I said before, and answer me different. You’re more to me than all the rest of the world put together, and I’m sure that I could make you a happy woman. I’ve watched you, like a cat watches a mouse, these many months. I’ve followed your ways and learned your fancies. David’s self don’t know so much about you as I do--all I know of your beautiful, brave nature and likes and dislikes--down to the walks by night with nought but the moonbeams and your own thoughts for company. And you--can’t you feel a bit too, and picture your life along with me away over the water? Can’t you see yourself mistress of such a place as you’ve heard me tell about to David? Can’t you let me love you and make you my dear wife, Rhoda? For God’s sake think about it, and don’t say ’no’ again. I’ll wait your pleasure; I’ll not hurry you. Take a year to say ’good-bye’ to Dartmoor if you like; or stop on Dartmoor if you like; and I’ll gladly stop too, if you say the word; but oh, Rhoda Bowden, do marry me and find what it is to have a husband who worships your shadow!" He stood over her as he spoke, while she sat motionless and looked out of the window. Now she saw David returning and was glad. But her quick ears heard Margaret stop him outside, and husband and wife went into the kitchen together. "Say ’yes’ and have done with it," begged Bartley. She was thinking, but not of him. It occurred to her that Margaret had planned the entire incident. Her thoughts retraced many past events, and she wondered how much more Margaret might have planned. Then she asked herself the reason. Her sustained silence made the lover speak again; but she was so interested in side views of the situation that the central fact seemed unimportant. To him, however, nothing else mattered; and her answer to one who had just asked her to marry him, struck the man as extraordinary. "Don’t be dumb, unless silence is to give consent," he said; then she came to herself, looked at him blankly, and shook her head. "Good God! Is that all your answer?" he asked. "That’s all," she replied. "Why--why--why? What’s between us? I’m frank to you; be frank with me, Rhoda. It’s now or never. Say everything in your mind to say. Leave nothing unsaid. What is it between us? What’s the bar? Can it be got over or broken down? Where do I fail? Can I mend it? Can I change anything--every thing to please you better? Don’t fear to hurt me. Anything is better than refusal." "You’re too light-minded," she said. "And, even if you wasn’t, I shouldn’t care about you. You’re not the sort of man that I like." "What sort do you like then? Tell me, and I’ll try to be that sort."