"I am sure that I should not feel wicked in marrying you." "Perhaps you haven't my sort of conscience," answered Constance, laughing to conceal her intense hatred and contempt of him.
Gresham, adopting also the light manner of small talk, laughed with her.
"Really it wouldn't be so bad," he urged.

"We would make a very fair couple when we were averaged.

You are beautiful and accomplished enough to make up for all the deficiencies I may have." "You do say nice things to me," acknowledged Constance, "but there is one deficiency you have overlooked.

We do not love each other, and that is fatal to Aunt Gertrude's rather impertinent plans.

It renders even a discussion of the matter impossible.