For an instant she felt her temper surging, then caught herself and took refuge in burlesque.

"The only fair thing about it is that my Aunt Gertrude's will gave her orphaned niece the choice between a title with riches and poverty with freedom," and raising her eyes and hand toward heaven she started to sweep from the room with queenly grace, stifling a giggle as she went.
"Wait just a minute," begged Gresham, suppressing his anger.

"We should arrange in some way to keep the money.

We can, at least, be practical." Constance, whose faculties were not so concentrated as his, heard a rustle on the stairs and glancing out through the portieres into the hall, saw Polly, without her hat, hurrying to the front door.

The bell had not rung, and she divined that Polly, out of the boudoir window, had seen some particular company approaching.
"It seems impossible," she returned, and waited.
"Not quite," Gresham assured her with a smile.