“It appears to me that you are half way there at the present moment. Do not be so demonstrative. Pray release me.”
He had his arm round her waist at this time, and did not seem disposed to comply with her request.
The sparkling champagne he had imbibed seemed to have endowed him with a courage which surprised both himself and his fair companion.
“I think we had better return to the concert-room,” observed Arabella.
“Ah, by no means,” said he, “we are far better here.”
“But I’m positively afraid of you, my lord. Let us return, I pray.”
“I can’t for a moment consent to such a course. No-no, my dear Awabella; you have said I might call you by that name—this is elysium. The concert-room is but earth.”
“Pray, don’t be metaphorical or poetic, for it would be more than I could bear just now.”
“You are the most tantalising, charming, bewitching creature I ever met with in the course of my life. Oh, Awabella, tell me, dearest, if you have any wegard for me?”
“How can you ask such a ridiculous question?”