Was it an hour or half a lifetime? He inclined her to his knee as he had when she was a little girl, but at length he came back to his senses.
"Cynthia," he began with tender gravity, "there are many points to consider. Do you know that I am more than double your age——"
"Don't tell that to me. Isn't love as sweet?"
Could he deny it in the face of that ravishing smile, those appealing eyes.
"Still—the world will think about it. And you are a rich young woman, you could take your pick of lovers——"
"But they are all so troublesome," she interrupted. "And one gets affronted with the other. And if I picked very much I might be called a flirt, perhaps I have been. I didn't want them, only to dance and be merry with, and there are so many pretty girls in the world—enough for all of them."
He smiled a little and it gave her a heartache to see how thin he had grown, and there were new creases in his forehead that had been so fair and smooth.
"And if some day you should repent?"
"I'm not going to repent. Why should one when one gets the thing one wanted?"
There was a touch of the old brightness in her tone. Had she really wanted him?