Page:The Spoils of Poynton (London, William Heinemann, 1897).djvu/207

Rh "I dare say she wasn't. But the less she's satisfied the more I'm free."

"What bearing have her feelings, pray?" Fleda asked.

"Why, Mona's much worse than her mother, you know. She wants much more to give me up."

"Then why doesn't she do it?"

"She will, as soon as her mother gets home and tells her."

"Tells her what?" Fleda inquired.

"Why, that I'm in love with you!"

Fleda debated. "Are you so very sure she will?"

"Certainly I'm sure, with all the evidence I already have. That will finish her!" Owen declared.

This made his companion thoughtful again. "Can you take such pleasure in her being 'finished'—a poor girl you've once loved?"

Owen waited long enough to take in the question; then with a serenity startling even to her knowledge of his nature, "I don't think I can have really loved her, you know," he replied.

Fleda broke into a laugh which gave him a surprise as visible as the emotion it represented. "Then how am I to know that you 'really' love—anybody else?"

"Oh, I'll show you that!" said Owen.

"I must take it on trust," the girl pursued.

"And what if Mona doesn't give you up?" she added.