Part 32 (1/2)
”Any one. Never mind which. Jump in.” And to the first driver whose eye met his, he said: ”Lime Street Station.”
The gangways were being drawn away. A hoa.r.s.e boom filled the air, and then a cheer.
”But I shall miss the boat,” the dazed girl protested.
”Jump in.”
He pushed her in.
”But I shall miss the...”
”I know you will,” he replied, as if angrily. ”Do you suppose I was going to let you go by that steamer? Not much.”
”But mother and father...”
”I'll telegraph. They'll get it on landing.”
”And where's Ruth?”
”_Be hanged to Ruth!_” he shouted furiously.
As the cab rattled over the cobbles the _t.i.tubic_ slipped away from the landing-stage. The irretrievable had happened.
Nellie burst into tears.
”Look here,” Denry said savagely. ”If you don't dry up, I shall have to cry myself.”
”What are you going to do with me?” she whimpered.
”Well, what do _you_ think? I'm going to marry you, of course.”
His aggrieved tone might have been supposed to imply that people had tried to thwart him, but that he had no intention of being thwarted, nor of asking permissions, nor of conducting himself as anything but a fierce tyrant.
As for Nellie, she seemed to surrender.
Then he kissed her--also angrily. He kissed her several times--yes, even in Lord Street itself--less and less angrily.
”Where are you taking me to?” she inquired humbly, as a captive.
”I shall take you to my mother's,” he said.
”Will she like it?”
”She'll either like it or lump it,” said Denry. ”It'll take a fortnight.”
”What?”
”The notice, and things.”