“Do you know I have always thought of you as married,” she went on; “I often picture you in your domestic circle reading to the children from the Daily Megaphone those awfully interesting stories about Little Willie Waterbug.”
He held on to the railings for support.
“May we sit down?” he asked faintly.
She sat by his side, half turned to him, demure and wholly adorable.
“Of course you are right in one respect,” he said at last, “but you're altogether wrong about the children.”
“Are you married!” she demanded with no evidence of amusement.
“Didn't you know?” he asked.
She swallowed something.
“Of course it's no business of mine and I'm sure I hope you are very happy.”
“Perfectly happy,” said T. X. complacently. “You must come out and see me one Saturday afternoon when I am digging the potatoes. I am a perfect devil when they let me loose in the vegetable garden.”