The Foot of Time: A Novel of Australia and the South Seas: (1933)

230 THE FOOT OF TIME
At Edith's entry he plunged straight at the
matter in hand.
"I can't stand this any longer," he blurted out.
"It's awful! Can't I make you understand? I
"You needn't say any more, thank you, Mr.
Swinton," replied Edith, cutting him short. "I like
you awfully—at least, I used to—until I
can't marry you, now or ever. It's no use talking
about it; you're only making yourself miserable. I
don't love you any more—I never could again, and
I simply couldn't possibly bring myself to marry
you—I simply can't, that's all. You had better
go now. I'm very sorry, but it's finished."
"Edith!"
"Do please go. Go back to the South Seas if you
like, only leave me and go. I can't bear it."
Edith was leaving the room, had indeed reached
the door, passed just through it into the hall, when
William Burne, hearing the voices, strode in. The
man's face was purple with passion.
"What's all this I 'ear on?" he shouted. " 'Avn't
I given orders that this son of a reprobate ain't
allowed in?"
"Don't get so excited, Dad," Edith reproved him.
"Mr. Swinton only called, not knowing of any
orders you may have given Lizzie, and he is leaving
immediately."
"What for did he come—that's what I'm arsking,
Edie? I'll see you righted, my love. Presumption,
that's what it is! I've nothing agin the young
fellow, nothing at all. The boy can't 'elp it, but
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THE FOOT OF TIME 231
it's his father—his flambusted, loose-living, titled
father! I'd title 'im, not 'arf I wouldn't! Why,
the poor young fellow's practically a bastard! What
did 'ee come here for, anyhow?"
A strong, determined young voice came from
the drawing-room:
"I came to ask your daughter to do me the honour
of becoming my wife," it said, "but she has
refused me—refused me so positively that I'll be
going. There's no more for me to say. As to my
being a bastard, Mr. Burne, if I meet you alone
outside I'll damn well make you eat your own
words!"
"You will, will you? Why, lad, it would be a
shame to kill you. You ain't fit to die, you ain't!"
roared Burne. "Heaven wouldn't 'old the likes of
men of your breeding!"
"If you're there I'll be in better company in the
other place, Mr. Burne," replied Bruce, and prepared
to go.
Burne turned to his daughter who was preparing
to leave them. "So 'ee did 'ave the impertinence to
ask you to marry 'im, did he, Ede?"
"I've already told you I did, haven't I?" interposed
Bruce. "Miss Burne has definitely told me
she won't, so there's no more to be said on the
matter."
"Spoken like my own dear gal, Edie. I told your
Ma as 'ow you'd do what your old father told you,
that I did!"
"It's nothing whatever to do with what you told