The Yellow Streak | Page 3

I've never met any one who has
been to me just what you are. And, Mary, I must have you as my
wife ..."
The girl remained motionless. She kept her face averted. The room
seemed very still.
"Oh, Robin, please ..." she murmured again.

Resolutely the young man put an arm about her and drew her to him.
Slowly, reluctantly, she let him have his way. But she would not look at
him.
"Oh, my dear," he whispered, kissing her hair, "don't you care a little?"
She remained silent.
"Won't you look at me, Mary?"
There was a hint of huskiness in his voice. He raised her face to his.
"I saw in your eyes just now that you cared for me," he whispered; "oh,
my Mary, say that you do!"
Then he bent down and kissed her. For a brief instant their lips met and
he felt the caress of the girl's arm about his neck.
"Oh, Robin!" she said.
That was all.
But then she drew away.
Reluctantly the man let her go. The colour had faded from his cheeks
when she looked at him again as he stood facing her in the twilight of
the billiard-room.
"Robin, dear," she said, "I'm going to hurt you."
The young man seemed to have had a premonition of what was coming,
for he betrayed no sign of surprise, but remained motionless, very erect,
very pale.
"Dear," said the girl with a little despairing shrug, "it's hopeless! We
can't afford to marry!"
"Not yet, I know," said Robin, "but I'm getting on well, Mary, and in
another year or two ..."

The girl looked down at the point of her little brogue shoe.
"I don't know what you will think of me," she said, "but I can't accept ...
I can't face ... I ..."
"You can't face the idea of being the wife of a man who has his way to
make. Is that it?"
The voice was rather stern.
The girl looked up impulsively.
"I can't, Robin. I should never make you happy. Mother and I are as
poor as church-mice. All the money in the family goes to keep Horace
in the Army and pay for my clothes."
She looked disdainfully at her pretty suit.
"All this," she went on with a little hopeless gesture indicating her
tailor-made, "is Mother's investment. No, no, it's true ... I can tell you
as a friend, Robin, dear, we are living on our capital until I have caught
a rich husband ..."
"Oh, my dear," said Robin softly, "don't say things like that ..."
The girl laughed a little defiantly.
"But it's true," she answered. "The war has halved Mother's income and
there's nothing between us and bankruptcy but a year or so ... unless I
get married!"
Her voice trembled a little and she turned away.
"Mary," said the young man hoarsely, "for God's sake, don't do that!"
He moved a step towards her, but she drew back.
"It's all right," she said with the tears glistening wet on her face, and
dabbed at her eyes with her tiny handkerchief, "but, oh, Robin boy,

why couldn't you have held your tongue?"
"I suppose I had no right to speak ..." the young man began.
The girl sighed.
"I oughtn't to say it ... now," she said slowly, and looked across at
Robin with shining eyes, "but, Robin dear, I'm ... I'm glad you did!"
She paused a moment as though turning something over in her mind.
"I've ... I've got something to tell you, Robin," she began. "No, stay
where you are! We must be sensible now."
She paused and looked at him.
"Robin," she said slowly, "I've promised to marry somebody else ..."
There was a moment's silence.
"Who is it?" Robin asked in a hard voice.
The girl made no answer.
"Who is it? Do I know him?"
Still the girl was silent, but she gave a hardly perceptible nod.
"Not ...? No, no, Mary, it isn't true? It can't be true?"
The girl nodded, her eyes to the ground.
"It's a secret still," she said. "No one knows but Mother. Hartley doesn't
want it announced yet!"
The sound of the Christian name suddenly seemed to infuriate Greve.
"By God!" he cried, "it shan't be! You must be mad, Mary, to think of
marrying a man like Hartley Parrish. A fellow who's years older than

you, who thinks of nothing but money, who stood out of the war and
made a fortune while men of his own age were doing the fighting for
him! It's unthinkable ... it's ... it's damnable to think of a gross, ill-bred
creature like Parrish ..."
"Robin!" the girl cried, "you seem to forget that we're staying in his
house. In spite of all you say