Max smiled. “Oddly enough,” he said, “I was about to make the same request to you. But I suppose we must let Miss Fenimer settle the question.”
Christine smiled like an angel. “Can’t we have a nice time as we are?” she asked.
This frivolous reply was properly ignored by both men, and Riatt went on: “Don’t you think you ought to consider the fact that Miss Fenimer and I are engaged?”
“Miss Fenimer assures me she does not intend to marry you.”
“And may I ask if you consider that she does intend to marry you—that is if you should happen to become marriageable?”
“That is a question between her and me,” returned Linburne.
Riatt laughed. “I see,” he said. “The matrimonial plans of my future wife are no affair of mine?” And for an instant he felt his most proprietary rights were being invaded.
“Miss Fenimer is not your future wife.”
“Well, Mr. Linburne, I hear you say so.”
“You shall hear her say so,” answered Linburne. “Christine,” he added peremptorily, “tell Riatt what you have just been telling me.”