"There wor nowt else ah 'd gotten to ask ye," Ginger said gloomily.
"Because..." Pam proceeded gently to explain, "I shall have to say 'No.'"
"Ay, ah thought ye would," Ginger threw in. "Ah know very well ah 'm not good enough for ye."
"You 're every bit good enough for me," said Pam, with swift tears of championship in her eyes, drawn there by his masterstroke of humility. "And you must never say that again, please, even if you don't mean it. It 's very, very good of you indeed to want me, Ginger. It 's awfully good of you; and I 'd as soon say 'Yes' to you as to any I 've ever said 'No' to. I 'm sure you 'd do all you could to make me happy...."
"Ay, that ah would," said Ginger, snatching hopefully at the small bone of encouragement. "Ah 'd try my best. Is it onny use me askin' ye agen after a while?—say to-morrer or Friday? Ah sewd n't think owt about trouble."
Pam shook her head regretfully.
"I 'm afraid not," she said. "But you must n't imagine, Ginger, it 's because I don't care for you, or because I doubt you. It 's myself I doubt, if I doubt anybody, not you. If I could only be a hundred Pams instead of just a miserable one, I 'd have said 'Yes' to all those that asked me. I know I should. You can't think how it troubles me to have to keep on saying 'No'—but what am I to do? Everybody asks me to marry them ... at least, a few do ... and as I can only marry one, I 'm frightened it might be the wrong one. It 's so easy to make a mistake—unless you 're very, very sure. And I'm not; and I feel I might end by making both of us unhappy...."
"Ah 'd chance that," said Ginger, with resolution.
"But there ought to be no chance about it, Ginger," Pam reproved him gently. "Nobody ought ever to marry by chance. People that only marry by chance can only hope to be happy by chance—and that 's a dreadful idea."
"Ay, ah see it is," said Ginger hurriedly. "Ah beg yer pardon."