"Well, don't do that; but still it's easy enough not--to waste time. Your mother need never find out. I'm not a fool." "Ah, but I should feel a sneak." Maurice sighed at such scruples. "Besides," she added, "I don't want to--not yet. Can't we be happy like we have been? I will one day." "You can't play with love," Maurice warned her. "I'm not. I'm more in earnest than what you are." "I don't think you are." "But I am. Supposing if you got tired of me?" "I couldn't." "Ah, but that's where men are funny. All of a sudden you might take a sudden fancy to another girl. And then what about me? What should I do?" "It comes to this," he argued. "You don't trust me yet. You don't believe in me. Good heavens, what can I do to show you I'm sincere?" "Can't you wait a little while?" she gently asked. "I must." "And you won't ask me again?" "I won't promise that." "Well, not for a long time?" Jenny pleaded. "I won't even promise that. You see I honestly think you're making a mistake--a mistake for which you'll be very sorry one day. I wish you understood my character better." "All men are the same." She sighed out the generalization. "That's absurd, my dear girl. I might as well say all women are the same." "Well, they are. They're all soppy." "Isn't it rather soppy to go as far as you have with me, and not go farther?" Maurice spoke tentatively. "Oh, _I've_ properly joined the soppy brigade. I did think I was different, but I'm not. I'm well in the first line." "Don't you think," Maurice suggested--"of course, I'm not saying you haven't had plenty of experience--but don't you think there's a difference between a gentleman and a man who isn't a gentleman?" "I think gentlemen are the biggest rotters of all." "I don't agree with you." "I do. Listen. You asked me just now to come away with you. You didn't ask me to marry you." Maurice bubbled over with undelivered explanations. "Wait. I wouldn't marry you not if you asked me. I don't want you to ask me. Only------" "Only what?" Maurice inquired gloomily. "Only if I did all you wanted, I'd be giving everything--more than you'd give, even if you married a ballet girl." "Do let me explain," Maurice begged. "You absolutely misunderstand me.... Oh, Lord, we're nearly at Hagworth Street.... I've only time to say quite baldly what I mean. Look here, if you married me you wouldn't like it. You wouldn't like meeting all my people and having to be conventional and pay calls and adapt yourself to a life that you hadn't been brought up to. I'd marry you like a shot. I don't believe in class distinctions or any of that humbug. But you'd be happier not married. Can't you see that? You'd be happier the other way.... There's your turning. There's no time for more.... Only do think over what I've said and don't misjudge me ... darling girl, good night." "Good night." "A long kiss."