It would have been bad enough had he been able to resume his normal schedule and fill his time with golf; but, with even that relaxation denied him, such a situation as she proposed was impossible. For the present, at any rate, she was absolutely indispensable. She ought to know that a valet could not adjust a silk handkerchief properly, and that without this he could not even go upon the street. And who would read to him from the American papers? There was no further excuse, she said, for her to bring in his breakfasts, but if she did not sit opposite him at breakfast, what in thunder was the use of eating breakfast? If she had not begun breakfasting with him, then he would never have known the difference. But she had begun it; she had first suggested it. And now she calmly proposed turning him over to a valet. "Marjory," he said, "didn't I ask you to marry me?" She nodded. "That was necessary in order that we might be engaged," she reminded him. "Exactly," he agreed. "Now there seems to be only one way that we may keep right on being engaged." "I don't see that, Monte," she answered. "We may keep on being engaged as long as we please, may n't we?" "It seems not. That is, there is n't much sense in it if it won't let me go to Étois with you." "Of course you can't do that." "And yet," he said, "if we were married I could go, couldn't I?" "Why--er--yes," she faltered; "I suppose so." "Then," he said, "why don't we get married?" She did not turn away her head. She lifted her dark eyes to his. "Just what do you mean, Monte?" she demanded. "I mean," he said uneasily, "that we should get married just so that we can go on--as we have been these last ten days. Really, we'll still only be engaged, but no one need know that. Besides, no one will care, if we're married." He gained confidence as he went on, though he was somewhat afraid of the wonder in her eyes. "People don't care anything more about you after you're married," he said. "They just let you drop as if you were done for. It's a queer thing, but they do. Why, if we were married we could sit here all day and no one would give us a second glance. We could have breakfast together as often as we wished, and no one would care a hang. I've seen it done. We could go to Étois together, and I could pay for half the villa and you could pay for half. You can bring Marie, and we can stay as long as we wish without having any one turn an eye." He was growing enthusiastic now. "There will be nothing to prevent you from doing just as you wish. You can paint all day if you want. You can paint yards of things--olive trees and sky and rocks. There are lots of them around Étois. And I--" "Yes," she interrupted; "what can you do, Monte?"