Mr M. And pretend to be surprised at my wanting to marry you! If the logic of it still leaves you doubtful——
Miss G. Doubtful! I never said I was doubtful!
Mr M. Look at the romantic side! How romantic it would be to throw yourself away on riches! Did you never think about that? Not when I—stared?
Miss G. I didn’t exactly mean that you exactly stared. You—you—you—— Oh, you really might help me out! What did you do?
Mr M. I’d so much rather hear you say it.
Miss G. Well, right from the beginning there was something in your look—I mean the way you looked at me—I can’t describe it, but it got more and more like that.
Mr M. Yes, I believe I meant it to.
Miss G. Never forward or—or impertinent. Just nice, Mr Marchesson.
Mr M. I say, was that a good chap you refused in there (indicating the conservatory to the left) a thousand years ago?
Miss G. Very—so handsome! I liked him awfully. And the girl you refused——