"
Everything in her that was tender, maidenly, English, shrank
lacerated. But the steel held her. She put both her hands on the
table and bent over towards him.
"But, father, except that he's a gentleman, you haven't told me
why you want me to marry Mr. Holmes."
He fidgeted with his fingers. "Haven't you a spark of affection
for me left?"
She said dutifully, "Yes, father."
"I want you to marry him. I've set my heart on it. It has been the
one bright hope in my life for months. Can't you marry him because
you love me?"
"One generally marries because one loves the man one's going to
marry," said Phyllis.
"But you do love him," cried Gedge. "Either you're just a wanton
little hussy or you must care for the fellow."
"I don't. I hate him. And I don't want to have anything more to do
with him." The tears came. "He's a pro-German and I won't have
anything to do with pro-Germans."
She fled precipitately from the office into the street and made a
blind course to the hospital; feeling, in dumb misery, that she
had committed the unforgivable sin of casting off her father and,
at the same time, that she had made stalwart proclamation of her
faith.
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