"Scarborough!" exclaimed Gladys, with some success at self-concealment. "I detest him! I detest 'careers'!"
"Good," said Langdon, his face serious, his eyes amused. "That opens the way for my other shock."
"Oh, the good news. What is it?"
"That I'd like it if you'd marry me."
Gladys glanced into his still amused eyes, then with a shrug sank back among her wraps. "A poor joke," she said.
"I should say that marriage was a stale joke rather than a poor one. Will you try it—with me? You might do worse."
"How did you have the courage to speak when I'm looking such a wreck?" she asked with mock gravity.
"But you ain't—you're looking better now. That first shock braced you up. Besides, this isn't romance. It's no high flight with all the longer drop and all the harder jolt at the landing. It's a plain, practical proposition."
Gladys slowly sat up and studied him curiously.
"Do you really mean it?" she asked. Each was leaning on an elbow, gazing gravely into the other's face.