Her mystified expression told him that she was in the dark.
"It's something we should have to ask for, and to sign—Robert Bradley Collingham, bachelor, and Jane Scarborough Follett, spinster—I believe that's the way it runs."
"Oh!" The low ejaculation was just enough to show that she understood.
"Why shouldn't we, Jennie? It wouldn't take half an hour to get there and back."
"'Back?'" She was so dazed that she echoed the word more or less unconsciously.
They came in sight of a low brown tower at which he pointed with his stick. "Do you see that church? Well, that church has got a parson—quite a decent sort for a parson—"
"How do you know?"
"Because I talked to him—about half an hour ago. I said that if he was going to be at home, we might look in on him toward the end of the afternoon."
"You had no right to say anything of the kind."
"I know I hadn't, but I took a chance. Won't you take a chance, too, Jennie? It would mean the beginning of the end of all your troubles. In the long run, if not in the short run, I could take them off your hands."