"Packing," I said, not getting up.

He made an impatient gesture.

"Nonsense!" he said. "There is no need to pack. I tell you I will not let
you go. I am going to marry you and keep you here always."

I sat down on the floor and began to laugh.

"You think so, do you?"

"Yes."

"You can't force me to marry you, you know--can you? I want to see the
world. I don't want any tiresome man bothering after me. If I ever do
marry, it will be because--oh, because--" and I stopped and began fiddling
with the cover of a book.

"What?"

"Mrs. Carruthers said it was so foolish--but I believe I should prefer to
marry some one I liked. Oh, I know you think that silly--" and I stopped
him as he was about to speak--"but of course, as it does not last, anyway,
it might be good for a little to begin like that--don't you think so?"

He looked round the room, and on through the wide-open double doors into
my dainty bedroom, where Véronique was still packing.

"You are very cosey here; it is absurd of you to leave it," he said.