"I'm thinking."
"Of what?"
"Of what you say about prudence. I like it. It seems to me I ought to be prudent, too."
"Undoubtedly," he agreed, in the dry tone of one who assents to what he finds slightly disagreeable.
"I mean," she said, quickly, "that I ought to be prudent for you—for us all. There are a great many things to be thought of, things which people of our age ought not to let pass unconsidered. Men think the way through difficulties, while women feel it. I'm afraid I must ask for time to get my instincts into play."
"Do you mean that you can't give me an answer to-night—before I go on this long journey?"
"I couldn't give you an affirmative one."
"But you could say, No?"
"If you pressed the matter—if you insisted—that's what I should have to say."
"Why?"