After dinner Harry casually asked if Pauline thought her adventures
would lead her to Paris. Pauline thought it likely, whereat Harry
remarked that he might see her over there.

"I haven't been to Paris since I was a kid, and I really ought to see
it, don't you think?"

"Yes," agreed Pauline, without enthusiasm, "but wait until we are
married and we'll do Paris together."

"No, Polly, that won't do. I'm sorry, but as you say, you can't see
life after you're married and settled down, so I'll have to do Paris
alone."

"Harry, are you sure you love me?" Pauline whispered.

"Polly, I know it, and everybody else knows it except you. Get Owen,
he's a notary public, and I'll take an oath before him that you have
been the only girl in all the world, are now and ever will be, world
without end, amen."

"And I love you, Harry," said Pauline, lowering her eyes until he saw
only the silky lashes.

"Why, Polly, that's the first time you ever volunteered that
information."

"Yes, Harry, I love you too much to let you go to Paris."

"Paris can't hurt me unless I let it hurt me."