I want you to be my
wife. Will you?"
"I'm awfully sorry," Hazel stammered. She was just the least bit
frightened. The man who stared at her with burning eyes and spoke to
her in a voice that quivered with emotion was so different from the
calm, repressed individual she had known as her employer. "Why,
you're----" The thing that was uppermost in her mind, and what she
came near saying, was: "You're old enough to be my father." And beside
him there instantly flashed a vision of Jack Barrow. Of course it was
absurd--even though she appreciated the honor. But she did not finish
the sentence that way. "I don't--oh, it's simply impossible. I
couldn't think of such a thing."
"Why not?" he asked. "I love you. You know that--you can see it,
can't you?" He leaned a little nearer, and forced her to meet his
gaze. "I can make you happy; I can make you love me. I can give you
all that a woman could ask."
"Yes, but--"
He interrupted her quickly. "Perhaps I've surprised and confused you
by my impulsiveness," he continued. "But I've had no chance to meet
you socially. Sitting here in the office, seeing you day after day,
I've had to hold myself in check.
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