'The excitement has been too much for you,' Munden remarked.
Shergold looked at him, with a painful embarrassment in his features; then
suddenly he bent forward.
'Munden, it's I who have lied. I _did_ ask that girl to marry me.'
'When?'
'Last night.'
'Why?'
'Because for a moment I was insane.' They stared at each other.
'Has she any hold upon you?' Munden asked slowly.
'None whatever, except this frantic offer of mine.'
'Into which she inveigled you?'
'I can't honestly say she did; it was entirely my own fault. She has never
behaved loosely, or even like a schemer. I doubt whether she knew anything
about my uncle, until I told her last night.'
He spoke rapidly, in a thick voice, moving his arms in helpless
protestation. His look was one of unutterable misery.
'Well,' observed Munden, 'the frenzy has at all events passed. You have the
common-sense to treat it as if it had never been; and really I am tempted
to believe that it was literal lunacy. Last night were you drunk?'
'I had drunk nothing. Listen, and I will tell you all about it. I am a fool
about women. I don't know what it is--certainly not a sensual or passionate
nature; mine is nothing of the sort.
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