She pushed away from him, her face flushed and frightened.
“Oh, don’t, Roland, don’t!”
He was instantly apologetic.
“I’m sorry, Elfkin. I’m a beast. Forgive me, but oh, Elfkin, you really are anxious about the marriage for my sake?”
“I mean you’re glad that we’re going to be married soon?”
She was surprised and at the same time amused by the look of entreaty in his eyes.
“Don’t look so tragic about it, of course I’m glad.”
“But ...” He got no further, for she had taken his hands and was playing with them, slapping them against his sides.
“Don’t be such a silly, Roland, darling; you ought to know how pleased I am. I’m looking forward to it frightfully; and I know that you’ll be an awful dear to me.”