at that moment—the moment which was the crisis of his life and the crisis of hers.
I was determined to make him declare himself, for Laura’s sake.
“Sir Percival!” I interposed sharply, “have you nothing to say when my sister has said so much? More, in my opinion,” I added, my unlucky temper getting the better of me, “than any man alive, in your position, has a right to hear from her.”
That last rash sentence opened a way for him by which to escape me if he chose, and he instantly took advantage
of nothing to distress you,” I said soothingly.
“You want something,” she answered sharply and suspiciously. “Don’t look at me like that. Speak to me—tell me what you want.”
“I only want you to quiet yourself, and when you are calmer, to think over what I have said.”
“Said?” She paused—twisted