"Dear me!" she murmured. "If only they knew! They hadn't any suspicions, I suppose, about those—those little trifles?"
"None," I replied. "I put it all on to a waiter."
"How clever of you! You really do seem to be a most capable person—and so masterful! I begin to fear that some day you'll have your own way."
Her eyes laughed at me. There was something softly provocative in them—a new and kinder light. I bent over her and kissed her. She sat quite still.
"Mr. Walmsley!"
"It's usual among engaged couples," I pleaded.
"Is it!" she remarked coldly. "Doesn't the man, as a rule, wait to be quite sure he is engaged?"
"Not in this country," I declared: "I have heard that Americans are rather shy about that sort of thing. Englishmen——"
"Oh, bother Englishmen!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot. "I don't believe a word I've ever heard about them. I suppose now I shall have to marry you!"
"I don't see any way out of it," I agreed readily.