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rers I mean. Do be a little distrustful--of one at least; I don't like him and I wish you didn't--and I can't very well tell you why, only that he does not seem to me to be manly or even honest." She colored a little, but she also smiled faintly, for she still did not understand him. "I suppose I must know the man you mean, Mr. Heron; for I think he is the only man I ever heard you say anything against, and I have not forgotten. But what can have made you think that I needed any lecture about him? I don't suppose he ever thought about me in that way in his life, or would marry one of my birth and my bringing up even if I asked him. And in any case, Mr. Heron, I would not marry him even if he asked me. But what a shame it seems to arrange in advance for the refusing of a man who never showed the faintest intention of making an offer." At first Heron did not quite understand her. Then he suddenly caught her meaning. "Oh, that fellow? I didn't mean him. I never could have supposed that you were likely to be taken in by him." "To do him justice, Mr. Heron, he never seems to have any thought of taking any one in. Such as he is he always shows himself, I think." "Oh, I don't care about him----" "Nor I, Mr. Heron, I assure you. But whom then do you care about--in that sense?" "I distrust a man who takes a woman's money in a reckless and selfish way," Heron said impetuously. "That is a man I would not trust. Don't trust him, Miss Grey; believe me, he is a cad--I mean a selfish and deceitful fellow. I can't bear the thought of a girl like you being sacrificed--or sacrificing yourself as you might do perhaps--and I tell you that he is just the sort of man----" "Are you speaking of Mr. Blanchet now, Mr. Heron?" Her tone was cold and clear. She was evidently hurt, but determined now to have the whole question out. "Yes, I am speaking of Blanchet, of course--of whom else could I be speaking in such a way?" "Mr. Blanchet is my friend, Mr. Heron; I thought he was a friend of yours as well." "Well, I thought he was a manly, honest sort of fellow--I don't think so now," Victor went on impetuously, warming himself as he went into increasing strength of conviction. "I know you will hate me for telling you this, but I can't help that. I am as much interested in your happiness as if--as if you were my sister--and if you were my sister, I would just do the same." It would indeed be idle to attempt to describe t
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