Free White Heat by Pamela Kent

agree to marry Tom although he hasn’t actually asked me to do so yet? Would he, do you think consider it a little immodest of me if I made the running and suggested that we got engaged? After all, if he can’t afford to give me a ring I can always wait for one ...’
    ‘Stop twirling that damn ring on your finger!’ Willoughby exclaimed, as without quite realizing what she was doing, she toyed with Ian Maxton’s mother’s ring as it blazed away quite prettily on her finger. ‘It seems to me that you collect rings ... or you would do so if you got half a chance! You’re the sort of innocent-seeming female who goes out of her way to lure defenceless males from the comfortable paths where their troubles are few, and then hang them like scalps on your belt when you’ve no further use for them ... together with their rings! That is to say, if you don’t choose to wear the rings on your fingers!’
    She extended her hand in the moonlight, so that he could get a really good view of the ring on her finger.
    ‘You honestly think that’s an engagement ring, don’t you?’ she said slowly.
    He shrugged impatiently and turned back to the rail. ‘I neither know nor care what it is!’ he replied. ‘I don’t even know why I waste time talking to a silly little chit like you!’
    ‘Thank you,’ she replied, with extreme coolness. ‘But if you’ll cast your mind back, Mr. Willoughby, you’ll recollect that it’s in Tom Paget’s interest that you’re talking to me ...’
    ‘Don’t be a little fool!’ he exclaimed, whirling on her again as if he was consumed by impatience. Then, to her surprise, he obviously took himself to task, managed to conquer the impatience, and actually smiled at her. ‘You are a silly little chit, you know ... but you’re a most attractive one! What do you expect to do when you get to Australia? Don’t tell me you’re going to fall in with the schemes of the elderly Anthea and chase after some rich Australian with the object of getting him to marry you? I know quite a lot of Australians are rich— ’
    ‘I dislike rich men ,’ she told him cuttingly.
    His eyebrows arched.
    ‘Really? ’
    She nodded her head vigorously.
    ‘I even dislike them if they ’ ve an aura of wealth about them. In fact— ’ and she paused to give emphasis to her words — ‘I even think I ’ d prefer a really rough and tough type of Australian sheep-farmer with a lot of money he doesn't know how to handle to a plausible type of educated man with a fine family background and vaults full of diamonds. Such a man, conscious of his superiority and quite out of touch with ordinary human mortals, would be unbearable at close quarters and a little tiresome to have to cope with even for a brief while, ’ she declared, and was about to turn her back on him when he seized her wrists and laughed.
    ‘Meaning me? ’ he asked, as if he was suddenly enjoying himself.
    ‘If the cap fits, wear it !’ she replied.
    ‘How did you know I ’ d a fine family background? But I do assure you my vaults are not full of diamonds, ’ with mock regret. ‘There might be a few family heirlooms locked away somewhere in bank safes, and the bank balance itself is all right. You might even call me a rich man ... in fact, you can if you like. But as I’m not in the market there wasn ’ t much point in bringing me into the discussion, was there? ’ with rather cruel amusement.
    ‘No, ’ and she snatched away her hands.
    ‘However, I do have a sort of interest in you ... I’ve already admitted that. And when you get to Australia I could be of some use to you. I also have a lot of friends there. I even own a few sheep myself, and a ranch-house ... a very comfortable ranch-house. The man who runs it for me is married to a most attractive wife, and I’m sure she’d love to have you stay with her for a while. She gets rather bored with life at times, and you’d be something in the nature of a refreshing change. What do you say?