Mrs. Luna looked at him with a suspended needle. "Well! have you
forgotten that too? You told me yourself you thought it so pretty, that
time in Boston, when you walked me up the hill." Ransom declared that he
remembered that walk, but didn't remember everything he had said to her;
and she suggested, very satirically, that perhaps he would like to marry
Verena himself--he seemed so interested in her. Ransom shook his head
sadly, and said he was afraid he was not in a position to marry;
whereupon Mrs. Luna asked him what he meant--did he mean (after a
moment's hesitation) that he was too poor?
"Never in the world--I am very rich; I make an enormous income!" the
young man exclaimed; so that, remarking his tone, and the slight flush
of annoyance that rose to his face, Mrs. Luna was quick enough to judge
that she had overstepped the mark. She remembered (she ought to have
remembered before) that he had never taken her in the least into his
confidence about his affairs. That was not the Southern way, and he was
at least as proud as he was poor. In this surmise she was just; Basil
Ransom would have despised himself if he had been capable of confessing
to a woman that he couldn't make a living.
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