[Looking down upon her fondly.] Hateful?
Ottoline.
Until—until your book commenced to sell, at any rate. Suspense—a horrid sensation of uneasiness, mistrust—the fear that, through your foolish, hasty promise to mother and Dad, you might, after all, unite with them to cheat me out of my happiness! That's what it has been to me, Philip.
Philip.
[Rallying her, but a little guiltily.] Ha, ha, ha! You goose! I knew exactly how events would shape, Otto; hadn't a doubt on the subject. [Shutting the jewel-case with a snap and a flourish.] I knew——
Ottoline.
[Releasing herself.] Ah, yes, I dare say I've been dreadfully stupid. [Shaking herself, as if to rid herself of unpleasant memories, and again leaving him.] Well! Sans adieu! [Fastening her wrap.] Get your hat and take me downstairs.
Philip.
Wait a moment! [Chuckling.] Ho, ho! I'm not to be outdone altogether. [Pocketing her gift, he goes to the cabinet on the right and unlocks it. She watches him from the middle of the room. Presently he comes to her, carrying a little ring-case.] Take off your glove—[pointing to her left hand] that one. [She removes her glove tremulously. He takes a ring from the case, tosses the case on to the writing-table, and slips the ring on her third finger.] By George, I'm in luck; blessed if it doesn't fit!
[She surveys the ring in silence for a while; then she puts her arms round his neck and hides her face on his breast.