"Not far. Only for a few days at a time. I start on Friday. This is Monday."
He took my hands; he looked into my eyes; I knew him so well that I knew just what he was going to say. The colour poured into my face, but I made no mock-modest pretence of being shy or shocked.
As a preliminary, he questioned me as if I were on trial for my life. "Answer me quite truthfully, Mary"—he called me Mary before we were married, but always Polly afterwards—"tell me, on your solemn word of honour, do you love me—beyond all possible doubt—beyond all chance of changing or tiring, after it's too late?"
I told him that I loved him beyond doubt, beyond words, beyond everything, and should do so, I was absolutely convinced, to my life's end. I further declared that he knew it as well as I did, and was simply wasting breath.
"And you really and truly do wish to marry me, Mary?"
I attempted to laugh at his tragic gravity and his awkward choice of words. I said I didn't unless he did, that I wouldn't inconvenience him or force his inclination for the world. I asked him, plainly, whether he thought that quite the way to put it.
"Yes," he said. "For I want to make sure that I—that circumstances—are not taking advantage of you while you are young and helpless. And yet how can I be sure?"
He took my face between his hands and gazed at it, as if he would look down through my eyes to the bottom of my soul. I shut them after a moment, and tears began to ooze between the lids at the thought that he could doubt me. One trickled out and splashed upon his knee, and my heart began to heave with the impulse to cry in earnest. Then he drew my face—drew me into his arms, and we sat a little without speaking, hearing our hearts thump.
"We'll chance it, shall we?" he whispered between short breaths. "Sooner or later it must come to that, and better as soon as possible if I have to leave you in Melbourne alone. You won't be so much alone if you belong to me, even when I am away—will you, sweetheart?"
I merely sighed—that kind of long, full, vibrating sigh which means that your feelings are too deep for words.