She shook her head. "I much prefer the north," she remarked.
"Well," he said, "let's go. Say Scarborough."
"You're joking," she murmured. "You adore this south coast."
"Never!" he asserted positively.
"Well, darling," she said, "if you hadn't said first that you didn't care for it, of course I shouldn't have breathed a word—"
"Let's go to-morrow," he suggested.
"Yes." Her eyes shone.
"First train! We should have to leave Rottingdean at six o'clock a.m."
"How lovely!" she exclaimed. She was enchanted by this idea of a capricious change of programme. It gave such a sense of freedom, of irresponsibility, of romance!
"More toast, please," he said to the waiter, joyously.