"I hate this place. I hate these people," she
said. "I wish you'd come up to my room with me. I do want to talk to
you."
As Rachel had no wish to go or to stay, Evelyn took her by the wrist and
drew her out of the hall and up the stairs. As they went upstairs
two steps at a time, Evelyn, who still kept hold of Rachel's hand,
ejaculated broken sentences about not caring a hang what people said.
"Why should one, if one knows one's right? And let 'em all go to blazes!
Them's my opinions!"
She was in a state of great excitement, and the muscles of her arms were
twitching nervously. It was evident that she was only waiting for the
door to shut to tell Rachel all about it. Indeed, directly they were
inside her room, she sat on the end of the bed and said, "I suppose you
think I'm mad?"
Rachel was not in the mood to think clearly about any one's state of
mind. She was however in the mood to say straight out whatever occurred
to her without fear of the consequences.
"Somebody's proposed to you," she remarked.
"How on earth did you guess that?" Evelyn exclaimed, some pleasure
mingling with her surprise. "Do as I look as if I'd just had a
proposal?"
"You look as if you had them every day," Rachel replied.
"But I don't suppose I've had more than you've had," Evelyn laughed
rather insincerely.
"I've never had one."
"But you will--lots--it's the easiest thing in the world--But that's
not what's happened this afternoon exactly.
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