For a few minutes the lovers drove along in silence. It was Maurice who spoke first: "Jenny, I've been an idiot, and spoilt the evening. Do forgive me, Jenny," he cried, burying his face in her shoulder. "My vile temper wouldn't have lasted a moment if I could just have been kissed once; but Castleton got on my nerves and the waiter would hover about all the time and everybody enraged me. Forgive me, sweet thing, will you?" Jenny abandoning at once every tradition of obstinacy, caught him to her. "You silly old thing." "I know I am, and you're a little darling." "And he wasn't ever going to see me again. What a liberty! Not ever." "I am an insufferable ass." "And he wished he'd never met me. Oh, Maurice, you do say unkind things." "Were you nearly crying once?" he asked. "When I gave you the brooch?" "Perhaps." "Jenny, precious one, are you nearly crying now?" he whispered. "No, of course not." Yet when he kissed her eyelids they were wet. "Shall I pin the brooch now?" She nodded. "Jenny, you don't know how I hate myself for being unkind to you. I hate myself. I shall fret about this all night." "Not still a miserable old thing?" she asked, fingering the smooth face of the opal that had caused such a waste of emotion. "Happy now. So happy." He sighed on her breast. "So am I." "You're more to me every moment." "Am I?" "You're so sweet and patient. Such a pearl, such a treasure." "You think so." "My little Queen of Hearts, you've a genius for love." "What's that?" "I mean, you're just right. You never make a mistake. You're patient with my wretched artistic temperament. Like a perfect work of art, you're a perfect work of love." "Maurice, you _are_ a darling," she sighed on the authentic note of passionate youth in love. "When you whisper like that, it takes my breath away.... Jenny are you ever going to be more to me even than you are now?" "What do you mean, more?" she asked. "Well, everything that a woman can be to a man. You see I'm an artist, and an artist longs for the completion of a great work. My love for you is the biggest thing in my life so far, and I long to complete it. Don't you understand what I mean?" "I suppose I do," she said very quietly. "Are you going to let me?" "Some day I suppose I shall." "Not at once?" "No." "Why not? Don't you trust me?" "Yes." "Well?" "Kiss me," she said. "I can't explain. Don't let's talk about it any more." "I can't understand women," Maurice declared. "Ah!" She smiled; but in the smile there was more of sadness than mirth. "Why waste time?" he demanded passionately. "God knows we have little enough time. Jenny, I warn you, I beg you not to waste time. You're making a mistake. Like all girls, you're keeping one foot in a sort of washy respectability." "Don't go on," Jenny said. "I've told you I will one day." "Why not come abroad with me if you're afraid of what your people will say?" "I couldn't. Not while my mother was alive."