This was unendurable. I made an effort to rise, but he was kneeling on my dress.
"Tell me," continued he—"I want to know,—because, if you were, I have something to say to you,—and if not, I'll go."
"Go then!" I cried; but, fearing he would obey too well, and never come again, I hastily added—"Or say what you have to say, and have done with it!"
"But which?" said he—"for I shall only say it if you really were thinking of me. So tell me, Helen."
"You're excessively impertinent, Mr. Huntingdon!"
"Not at all—too pertinent, you mean—so you won't tell me?—Well, I'll spare your woman's pride, and, construing your silence into 'Yes,' I'll take it for granted that I was the subject of your thoughts, and the cause of your affliction—"
"Indeed, sir—"
