"I can't tell you why he objects to me, but I can assure you that I don't stand in awe of him." "Rubbish! If you don't, why have you kept away from me in the way you have done?--you exasperating boy! I console myself with the reflection that if I'm losing your society you're losing mine; because I'll bet a trifle that you're just as fond of seeing me every other day or so as I am of seeing you." "You're right there. If I saw you all day and every day I shouldn't mind." "I'm not so sure of that; there's a limit. It might be all right for a time; but, my hat! wouldn't you get bored after a month of nothing else but my society!" "What price you--after a month of nothing else but me?" She seemed to reflect before she answered. "You see, it's like this; if you and I were alone together for a month, or longer----" "I'd be willing to make it longer." "Would you?" She looked at him with shining eyes. "Rodney, you're a dear. If we were to be alone together for so long as that, we should have to alter the pace. I fancy that where a man and a woman are concerned it's the pace that kills." "What do you mean by that, oh, wise one?" "If you had one pound of chocs to eat you might gobble them down as fast as you please, and no harm would be done." "You've tried it?" "Perhaps! But if you had a ton you would have to go, oh so carefully, or you would be so sick. But we meet so seldom that when we do we want to gobble; I know that, so far as I am concerned, I want to get as much of you as I possibly can during the short time we are together." "Same here--only more so." They smiled at each other across the little table. Then, glancing down, she transferred her attention to what was on her plate. "But, of course, if we weren't to part for a month--or more--it would be different." "True, oh, queen! And suppose we were to marry!" "I don't think I'd mind." "I'm pretty nearly sure I shouldn't." "That's very sweet of you to say so. Only--there's dad!" "There's very much dad!" "He can forbid my seeing you, and that kind of thing, if he pleases; and if he finds out that I've been disobedient he'll make himself extremely disagreeable. Still, I fancy I could manage him. But if I were to marry you against his wishes, I don't believe I'd ever get another penny from him, living or dead; and as you have no immediate promise of becoming a millionaire, that would be awkward for both of us." "It would. All the same, don't you think it would be comfy if we were secretly engaged--in the event of anything happening to him?" "What's going to happen?" "Anything--living the sort of life he does." "Are you hinting that there's anything the matter with his health?" "My dear girl, you've only to use your eyes to be aware that a doctor would tell him that he's the kind of man who ought to swear off everything. And does he?" "You make me feel all shivery. You talk as if you expected him to die right off."