"Which disposes of the third and last difficulty," said Paul promptly. Katharine stamped her foot and walked on in front of him. "You don't seem to think," she said, "that I might not _want_ to marry you." "Oh, no," said Paul; "I don't." She said no more, but continued to walk a little way in front of him so that he could not see her face. She only spoke once again on their way down to the boat. "How was Ted looking when you saw him?" she asked abruptly. "Perhaps you didn't notice, though?" "Oh, yes," said Paul, blandly. "I've never seen him looking better; he seemed to have had a splendid time out there. He asked after you, by the way, and seemed rather surprised that I hadn't heard from you." She made no comment, and they reached the boat in silence. "You will come back to tea with me?" she said, as they stood waiting for it to start. "With you,--or with unsophistication?" "Oh, with me of course! Don't you think you have been funny enough for one afternoon?" "Our best jokes are always our unconscious ones," murmured Paul. "Seriously, though, I think I won't bother you any more. I shall only be in the way if I stay any longer." "Now what have I done," she demanded indignantly, "to make you think you are in the way?" "Oh, of course--nothing. So foolish of me!" said Paul humbly. "I shall be delighted to return with you; there are still so many things we want to say to each other, are there not?" However, they did not say them on the way home, for Katharine soon became thoughtful again, and he made no further attempt to draw her out but remained studiously at the other end of the boat until they landed; and after that, the noise of the cab in which they drove across Paris was sufficient excuse for refraining from anything like conversation. At the top of the stairs, as they stayed for a moment outside her _appartement_ to recover their breath, she suddenly turned to him with one of her unaccountable smiles. "Well?" he said. "You know I didn't mean to be cross, don't you?" she asked him in a hurried undertone. "You absurd little silly!" was all he said. They sat for a long time over tea, and neither of them felt inclined to talk. But the silence was not embarrassing. And the early spring day drew to a close and the room grew dark with shadows; and still they sat there, and it did not occur to either of them to make conversation. At last, Katharine stirred in her seat at the end of the sofa and looked towards the dim outline of his figure against the window, and finished her reflections out loud. "After all," she said thoughtfully, "the great thing is to be sane. Nothing else matters much if one can only be sane about things. There are heaps of reasons why you and I should not marry, if we were to begin hunting them up; but why bother about it? You know and I know that we have simply got to try the experiment, and chance the rest. One must risk something. And it can't be much worse than going on alone like this."