She laughed and said: “I will give the proper answer to that. How can I be other than happy, oh, my love, when daily I see your angel form?”
“I forgot that. Yes, you're a lucky girl in that way—very, very lucky. Beware lest you do not sufficiently prize your treasure. Cherish it, tend it, love it.”
“Oh, don't fool, George. Whenever we have two minutes together you waste them in playing the goat. Georgie, tell me—about your exam.”
“To-morrow.”
She was at once serious. “To-morrow?”
“To-morrow I thrust my angel form into the examination room. To-morrow my angel voice trills in the examiners' ears.”
“I thought you had a paper first, before the viva?”
“Do not snap me up, girl. I speak in metaphors. To-morrow my angel hand glides my pen over the paper. On Thursday my angel tongue gives forth my wisdom with the sound of a tinkling cymbal.”
“The paper to-morrow, the viva on Thursday?”
He bowed his angel head.