Mildred started up.
"Yes, the real thing," he assured her. "Of course I knew what was doing. But I kept mum—didn't want to say anything to you till I could say everything. Mildred, I'm free. We can be married to-morrow, if you will."
"Then you know about me?" said she, confused.
"On the way I stopped in to see Keith. He told me about that skunk—told me you were free, too."
Mildred slowly sat down. Her elbows rested upon the table. There was her bare forearm, slender and round, and her long, graceful fingers lay against her cheek. The light from above reflected charmingly from the soft waves and curves of her hair. "You're lovely—simply lovely!" cried Stanley. "Mildred—darling—you WILL marry me, won't you? You can go right on with the career, if you like. In fact, I'd rather you would, for I'm frightfully proud of your voice. And I've changed a lot since I became sincerely interested in you. The other sort of life and people don't amuse me any more. Mildred, say you'll marry me. I'll make you as happy as the days are long."
She moved slightly. Her hand dropped to the table.
"I guess I came down on you too suddenly," said he. "You look a bit dazed."
"No, I'm not dazed," replied she.
"I'll call Mrs. Brindley in, and we'll all three talk it over."
"Please don't," said she. "I've got to think it out for myself."