But her shapely shoulders rose in a discouraging shrug.
"Into the fire?" she asked calmly.
"Into Elysium."
She laughed at that. "Worse," she said with a touch of cynicism. "The home of the blessed dead! I'm not blessed and I'm not dead—and I don't want to be!"
"You know I didn't mean that," he objected.
"The only other Elysium I know is Elysium Hill, with its doleful deodars. A most distressing—"
Young Andrews interrupted her by springing up. "Oh, don't be so frightfully literal!" he cried, annoyed to a point of misery. "You know very well what I meant."
"If you're going to be rude—" she began threateningly. And on the instant he was in his chair again, leaning forward, groping for her bare hand.
"No, you mustn't!" she warned, drawing both hands out of reach. "You'll only declare that I encouraged you."
At that he gasped audibly. "Encouraged me!" he exclaimed when he breathed normally again. "Aren't you a little late with your caution? I suppose I never have been encouraged."