"I'm not so sure of that," said Bunny. "Anyway, the mischief is done now. And you needn't be afraid I shall throw you over because--" an unexpected throb came into his voice--"I know now I've simply got to have you." Toby sighed again. "But if--if I'm not worth waiting for, I'm not worth having," she said. "But why wait?" argued Bunny. "For a hundred reasons. You're not really in love with me for one thing." Toby spoke with conviction. "Yes, I am." Stubbornly he contradicted her. "No, you're not. Listen, Bunny! Love isn't just a passion-flower that blooms in a single night and then fades. You're too young really to understand, but I know--I know. Love is more like a vine. It takes a long while to ripen and come to perfection, and it has a lot to go through first." Again a sense of strangeness came to Bunny. Surely this was a grown woman speaking! This was not the wild little creature he knew. But--perhaps it was from perversity--her warning only served to strengthen his determination. "You can go on arguing till midnight," he said, "you won't convince me. But look here, if you don't want anyone to know, we'll keep it to ourselves for a little while. Will that satisfy you? We'll meet and have some jolly times together in private. Will that make you any happier?" "We shan't be engaged?" questioned Toby. "Not if you'll kiss me without," said Bunny generously. "Oh, I don't mind kissing you--" she lifted her lips at once, "if it doesn't mean anything." He stooped swiftly and met them with his own. His kiss was close and lingering, it held tenderness; and in a moment her arms crept round his neck and she clung to him as she returned it. He felt a sob run through her slight frame as he held her though she shed no tears and made no sound, and he was stirred to a deeper chivalry than he had ever known before. "It does mean one thing, darling," he said softly. "It means that we love each other, doesn't it?" She did not answer him for a moment; then: "It may mean that," she whispered back. "I don't know--very much about--love. No one ever--really--loved me before." "I love you," he said. "I love you." "Thank you," she murmured. He held her still. "You'll never run away from me again? Promise!" She shook her head promptly with a faint echo of the elfin laughter that had so maddened him a little earlier. "No, I won't promise. But I'll show you where I was hiding if you like. Shall I?" "All right. Show me!" he said. She freed herself from him with a little spring, and turned to the stone buttress against which he had found her. He followed her closely, half afraid of losing her again, but she did not attempt to elude him. "See!" she said, with a funny little chuckle. "I found this ledge." The ledge she indicated was on a level with the parapet and not more than six inches wide. It ran square with the buttress, which on the outer side dropped sheer to the terrace. Bunny looked and turned sick. "You never went along there!" he said.