His voice reconciled her more and more.
"Must you, Denis?"
"To make some money, Nan dear! And I will make it—I will—I will!"
She felt that he would. His voice only stirred her now.
"And then?" she asked.
"And then," he cried, "and then I sha'n't mind pressing you for an answer to what I dared to ask you on the North Foreland."
There was a silence in the little clearing among the young pines. Only near at hand the hum of insects, and in the distance a cloud of cockatoos shrieking the sun into the sea, and the sea itself faintly booming upon the base of the sandstone cliffs. Before either spoke there was indeed one other sound, but it fell on ears doubly deaf; for Nan had flung back her dark-gold ringlets in a way of hers, and from the bold pose of her head none could have imagined the warm bloom upon her cheeks, or the tender film that dimmed the hazel eyes.
"Suppose I prefer to give you your answer first?"
"Nan! Nan! I would have you think it over, and over, and over again!"