"Let them go on thinking it."
She stared at me.
"Play up," I cried. "You know what you said just now. Well, here's our chance. Only play up for an hour or two. The real ones can't arrive before seven. There isn't a train before then. We can slip away after tea. Whinnerley proper can't be far. Play up, my dear, play up. It's a chance in a lifetime."
A wonderful light came into her eyes.
"Shall we?" she whispered.
"Yes, yes. Say you will."
She looked away suddenly over the sunlit park. Then she spoke very slowly.
"I'm trusting you rather a lot, aren't I?" she said.
"Yes," I said quietly.
"But since you make such a point—"