“Yes; quite with ease. Pourquoi pas?”
“You!”
Then he laughed afresh in the face of her most complete bewilderment.
“Tu es tordante!” he said, and then he crushed her suddenly up in his arms. “It was I that wrote; it was like this.—You shall hear.”
She freed herself so as to regain an upright position and the ability to fully satisfy her desire to stare in amazement full in his face.
“It wasn’t you!” she said incredulously; “not really?”
“Yes, it was very really I. Écoutez donc, you shall know all.”
He raised her hands in his, palm to palm, the fingers interwoven, and looked into her eyes.
“It was because I am quite decided to marry you,” he began.