He shakes her off.

"Answer me. Will you marry me, or will you not?"

"This is too sudden, Maurice!"

A little fire is kindling in her own eyes; she had objected to that
last repulsion.

"Sudden! After all these months!" He pauses. "Is it to be Dunkerton
or me?" asks he violently.

"Please do not bring Lord Dunkerton into this discussion," says she
coldly.

"I certainly shall."

"You mean that I----"

"Have encouraged him. So I hear, at all events, and--there are
things I remember."

"For the matter of that," says she, throwing up her beautiful head,
"there are things I remember too! You--you dare to come here and
accuse _me_ of falsity when I have watched you all day making steady
court to that wretched little plebeian, playing tennis with her all
the day long, and far into the evening! No! I may have said half a
dozen words to Lord Dunkerton, but you--how many half-dozen words
have you said to Miss Bolton? Come, answer me that, as we seem bent
on riddles."