"Must I be serious? Well, let me think. No, I don't know that I object--there is so very little that I object to, you see, in the way of things that people want to do--but I think, perhaps, that, all things being equal, a man would not _choose_ to marry so near a blood relation." "You _do_ think it wrong, then?" "I think it not only wrong but utterly preposterous and indefensible," he said, "that it should be lawful and virtuous for a man to marry his first cousin and wicked and indecent to marry his sister-in-law--or his aunt-in-law for the matter of that--or any other free woman who has no connection with him except through other people's marriages. If a legal restriction in such matters can ever be necessary or justifiable, it should be in the way of preventing the union of people of the same blood. Sense and the laws of physiology have something to say to _that_--they have nothing whatever to say to the relations that are of no kin to each other. Them's my sentiments, Miss King, if you particularly wish to know them." Elizabeth put her knife and fork together on her plate softly. It was a gesture of elaborate caution, meant to cover her conscious agitation. "Then you would not--if it were your own case--marry your cousin?" she asked, after a pause, in a very small and gentle voice. He was studying the _menu_ on her behalf, and wondering if the strawberries and cream would be fresh. Consequently he did not notice how pale she had grown, all of a sudden. "Well," he said, "you see I have no cousin, to begin with. And if I had I could not possibly want to marry her, since I am going to marry you to-morrow, and a man is only allowed to have one wife at a time. So my own case doesn't come in." "But if _I_ had been your cousin?" she urged, breathlessly, but with her eyes on her plate. "Supposing, for the sake of argument, that _I_ had been of your blood--would you still have had me?" "Ah!" he said, laughing, "that is, indeed, a home question." "_Would_ you?" she persisted. "Would I?" he echoed, putting a hand under the table to touch hers. "I really think I would, Elizabeth. I'm afraid that nothing short of your having been my own full sister could have saved you." After that she regained her colour and brightness, and was able to enjoy the early strawberries and cream--which did happen to be fresh. They did not hurry themselves over their lunch, and when they left the refreshment-room they went and sat down on two chairs by the Brinsmead pianos and listened to a little music (in that worst place that ever was for hearing it). Then Mr. Yelverton took his _fiancée_ to get a cup of Indian tea. Then he looked at his watch gravely. "Do you know," he said, "I really have an immense deal of business to get through before night if we are to be married to-morrow morning." "There is no reason why we should be married to-morrow morning," was her immediate comment "Indeed--indeed, it is far too soon."