‘Name, if you please?’
‘Why, you know.’
‘Say it.’
‘Maude.’
‘That all?’
‘Maude Crosse—O Frank!’
‘You blessing! How grand it sounds! O Maude, what a jolly old world it is! Isn’t it pretty to see the rain falling? And aren’t the shining pavements lovely? And isn’t everything splendid, and am I not the luckiest—the most incredibly lucky of men. Dear girlie, give me your hand! I can feel it under the glove. Now, sweetheart, you are not frightened, are you?’
‘Not now.’
‘You were?’
‘Yes, I was a little. O Frank, you won’t tire of me, will you? I should break my heart if you did.’