“I know you haven’t. But think about it now—” He began to be hugely pleased with himself. “Think about it now. And tell me if you could put up with me, as well as the garret.” He beamed and put his head a little on one side—rather like Mr. May, for one second. But he was much more dangerous than Mr. May. He was overbearing, and had the devil’s own temper if he was thwarted. This she knew. He was a big man in a navy blue suit, with very white teeth.
Again she thought she had better laugh it off.
“It’s you I am thinking about,” she laughed, flirting still. “It’s you I am wondering about.”
“Well,” he said, rather pleased with himself, “you wonder about me till you’ve made up your mind—”
“I will—” she said, seizing the opportunity. “I’ll wonder about you till I’ve made up my mind—shall I?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s what I wish you to do. And the next time I ask you, you’ll let me know. That’s it, isn’t it?” He smiled indulgently down on her: thought her face young and charming, charming.
“Yes,” she said. “But don’t ask me too soon, will you?”
“How, too soon—?” He smiled delightedly.
“You’ll give me time to wonder about you, won’t you? You won’t ask me again this month, will you?”
“This month?” His eyes beamed with pleasure. He enjoyed the procrastination as much as she did. “But the month’s only just begun! However! Yes, you shall have your way. I won’t ask you again this month.”